


Run To You

by titania522



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Crossover, Gen, Modern AU, Music, Smut, Tumblr, everlark, everlark fanfiction, movie challenge, movie!Everlark, movies - Freeform, movies in the month of may, the body guard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:08:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 89,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3998410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titania522/pseuds/titania522
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ex Secret Service agent Peeta Mellark is hired to protect Katniss Everdeen, the most famous musician of the last decade, from an unhinged stalker. His objective is to keep her safe at all costs. But who is going to protect him from losing his heart to her? Based on the movie, The Bodyguard starring Kevin Costner and Whitney Houston. Written for Movies in the Month of May, movie!Everlark challenge, hosted by the Everlarkian Archives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**_ _ **

 

**_Prologue_ **

 

**_“That's a nice song,” said young Sam, and Vimes remembered that he was hearing it for the first time._ **

 

**_“It's an old soldiers’ song,” he said._ **

 

**_“Really, sarge? But it's about angels.”_ **

 

**_“Yes,” thought Vimes, “and it's amazing what bits those angels cause to rise up as the song progresses. It's a real soldiers' song: sentimental, with dirty bits.”_ **

 

**_“As I recall, they used to sing it after battles,” he said. “I've seen old men cry when they sing it,” he added._ **

 

**_“Why? It sounds cheerful.”_ **

 

**_“They were remembering who they were not singing it with,” thought Vimes. “You'll learn. I know you will.”_ **

 

**― Terry Pratchett, _Night Watch_**

 

The fighting season was coming to a close and the volatile weather of the Hindu Kush was becoming even more chaotic than usual.  There was a thick soup of humid mist settling as low as the valley, so much so that the American Combat Outpost (COP) near the city of Kendu was completely blanketed in the dewy gauze.  Afghan National Security Forces were struggling with heavy casualties, equipment, and pay shortages, along with corruption and lack of support from the other branches of the armed forces.  They were having a hard time protecting interests in the most remote corners of the country. Plans were already in place to withdraw troops from the outlying provinces and redistribute Allied forces to more populated areas in Afghanistan to support the fledgling national security apparatus.

 

Staff Sergeant Peeta Mellark called his squad to order. There were 60 men stationed at this particular COP but Mellark was personally responsible for eight of those men, including his  close friend, Corporal Finnick Odair.  A dashing enlisted soldier who was on track to become an officer, Finnick was the bright spot on the squad - cool and methodical when he needed to be and perfectly unwilling to be serious if he didn’t absolutely have to be. Odair significantly mitigated the effects of being stranded in such an isolated place, with nothing but the sound of the wind through the towering mountains to keep a man company in the deep of the night.

 

The men went through their drills, and Peeta delivered his directions regarding the withdrawal of troops and supplies.  The men were visibly relieved - they were hoping for a reassignment near a city like Kabul, where they would find a semblance of civilization and comfort.

 

The mountains between Afghanistan and Pakistan were truly mesmerizing, especially to the American eye, accustomed to the monotony of strip malls and housing communities.  The land was slashed with quick ravines that raced with melted ice water cutting through the rugged crevices. But the villages of the Kush were very primitive - small enclaves of humanity forgotten by the larger world. Peeta admired the savage beauty of the place and spent many lonely nights in his barracks, sketching the mountains, listening to the winds howl, as if imploring the outsiders to leave.  There was nothing intrinsically evil about these mountains. It was the war that turned beauty into a thing to be feared.

 

As the men broke off to their respective duties, Finnick strode over, as he often did, an unlit Camel Light hanging listlessly from his lips.  He pulled his pack out and offered one to Peeta, who gratefully accepted it, lighting up as he scanned the ridges rising over the outpost.  Peeta didn’t understand why this particular location was built on such an exposed position except that it was a strategic place to have a presence.. This COP sat on an important supply line from Pakistan to major Taliban strongholds.  However, Command was convinced that Taliban fighters, trained for guerilla warfare, would never organize the numbers of men necessary to take down the outpost.  

 

“When does the first transport arrive?” Finnick asked at length as they stood companionably side-by-side, studying the western ridge of the rocks before them.

 

Peeta lit the cigarette, taking a long drag from it before answering. “Not sure. It’s been delayed twice. There’s a shortage of aircraft carriers.”

 

“Seems like we’ve been ‘withdrawing’ for months,” Finnick answered good naturedly.  “I’m ready for a bit of R&R here. If it all works out, I’ll be seeing my little boy soon.”

 

Peeta smiled. Finnick was married to Annie, a teacher at the local elementary school, and they’d just had a baby boy they’d named Tristan, after his grandfather.  Finnick’s family was second generation Irish-American, and his maternal grandparents still spoke with the lilting dialect of their native village.  Finnick had met Annie at the high school they both attended, and as he told Peeta, he had been smitten from the first moment he laid eyes on her.  His family had struggled to finance his schooling, so Finnick decided to join for the GI Bill to cover his education when he got out.  It was a plan and things were moving along the way they should, in Peeta’s opinion.

Peeta didn’t have a sweetheart.  Unlike Finnick, who had a plan and a family, Peeta had enlisted to get away from his family. And the Army obliged, shipping him off to the most remote location on the face of the earth. And that was also as it should be.

 

“Come out with us.  You’ll be on leave at about the same time, won’t you?” Finnick pressed, dusting the cigarette ash from his uniform that had blown in with the shifting wind.  “Annie’s been asking after you.”

 

As they moved to the north building of the outpost, ready to change the watch, Peeta nodded, smiling at his friend and the prospect of spending time with the warm, loving people of Finnick’s extended family. It was so different from the way his own family behaved.  

 

“I made a picture for Tristen,” Peeta said, pulling a folded page out of his pocket. “I took that photo you carry around and copied it. What do you think?”

 

Peeta handed the sketch to Finnick, who’s face melted in tenderness at the almost perfect rendition of the pudgy boy they both knew as Tristen.  His hands were up in rounded fists of defiance, his eyes the spitting image of his father’s.

 

“Yeah,” he said gently, running his finger lightly over the shadowed lines of pencil that, individually, were nothing more than scratches on paper. But in their totality, they represented the magical entity that was Finnick’s son.

 

After a few moments of meditative silence, Peeta said “I think I want to try your mother’s shepherd’s pie.  It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten one made just right.”

 

Finnick perked up, smiling happily.  “Annie told me she learned my mother’s recipe and wants to make it for us. She remembered how it was your fav-”

 

At the very same time, the sirens went off, cutting through their conversation, filling every corner of the outpost.  Peeta checked his radio, the chatter flooding his earpiece.  He focused on the words, tried to determine from the bark of commands exactly what the hell was going on.

 

Just as the words came over the line, an explosion detonated directly behind them. Weapons in hand, Peeta and Finnick moved in the direction of the launched mortar.  Peeta scanned the area, cliffs and rock walls facing down on the northwest corridor.  He was suddenly fixated on a flash of metal in the otherwise inert stone facade of the hill and realized a second too late that he was staring down the line of sight of a sniper.

 

“Finnick!” he cried out, willing his body to move faster as everything around him seemed to slow to an interminable crawl.  Later, when he was finally able to describe this scene to his therapist, he swore he could still see the bullet hurtling at them, and with the illusion of his invincibility, lunged his arms forward, trying to drag Finnick out of the scope’s deadly trajectory.

 

At that moment, Peeta could hear the voice of the military professor as he explained muzzle velocity to them.  As Peeta’s body moved forward, the voice spoke in his memory:

 

_Muzzle velocity is the speed a projectile has at the moment it leaves the muzzle of the gun._ _The velocity of a projectile is highest at the muzzle and drops off steadily because of air resistance. Projectiles traveling less than the speed of sound (about 340 m/s or 1115 feet/s in dry air at sea level) are subsonic, while those traveling faster are supersonic, and thus can travel a substantial distance and even hit a target before a nearby observer hears the "bang" of the shot._

 

Emerging from his trance-like state, Peeta saw Finnick’s body crumple, the report of the shot ringing just as his body hit the ground.  The trajectory of Peeta’s moving body found no resistance any longer, and he had to catch himself before he landed, sprawled over his friend. _His best friend.  Annie’s husband and Tristan's father_.  

 

Peeta didn’t need anyone to tell him what he already knew. As the explosions and shouts of men maneuvering themselves into a position where they could better protect the fortification filled the air, he only felt numb, staring at his friend before medics appeared to examine him.  He knew what the medics were now yelling over the din of the battle, that his friend was beyond saving, that he was already gone.  Steeling himself, he bent to take the paper he’d just given him from his still warm hand as another projectile whizzed by so closely, Peeta thought he could feel his hair lift from his scalp.  He followed the orders of his commanders on the radio, turning on his heel and taking up his combat station.  He skillfully reloaded his M4 rifle and pointing out at the suddenly hostile, side of the rising cliff, Peeta returned fire.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Panem City sprawled below Peeta’s aircraft like a blanket of Christmas lights, twinkling merrily in the cool December night.  Christmas had once been his favorite season - having grown up the son of a baker, it was one of the busiest times of the year - but also one of the most festive. Peeta and his family worked round the clock to fill the seemingly endless orders for cookies, cakes, and pies that were popular during the holiday season.  Peeta had loved frosting the snowmen, the miniature Santa Clauses, and Elves. His mother, Sybil, of German descent, pulled out her recipes for spice cakes, lebkuchen, pfefferneuse, and Dutch gingerbread cookies.  The smell of Christmas was the highlight of the baker’s kitchen, and Peeta had looked forward to it since he was a child.

 

As he leaned his head against the cool, vibrating, airplane window, he searched himself for that usual excitement, that unbound pleasure in all things Christmas that he had always felt the moment the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers had been consumed.  But as he deplaned and took in the decorated Christmas trees, the life-sized gingerbread house in the middle of the airport terminal, the jaunty music, and aggressively festive decorations, Peeta could only feel another variation of emptiness. The loss of that expectation saddened him profoundly.

 

His family knew he was coming, but he had been deliberately unclear about which day and time, citing the vagaries of the Army discharge process and the constraints of holiday travel.  But the truth was, Peeta was putting off the inevitable reunion with his family.  They would be happy to see him, and his mother would quickly produce a banquet of food large enough to feed a platoon, though there would only be the four of them other than himself - mom, dad, Ronan and Bannock.  He already envisioned his father quietly weeping at the relief of seeing him in the flesh and his mother fussing in that overbearing way only mothers could, but Peeta would wish he was anywhere but home and he didn’t think that was fair for any of them to experience.

 

So instead, when he gathered his luggage and hailed the airport taxi, he gave the address for Holland’s Tavern, the neighborhood bar that was literally three blocks from his parent’s house.  Chaff Holland’s establishment had been around forever and everyone knew the bar owner who’d lost his hand in Vietnam.  He also rented out rooms in the small walk-up that housed the pub, mostly for folks just passing through on their way to the next town.  It was a great stopping off point for Peeta before he faced the oppressive domesticity of his family.

 

As he entered the bar, he set down his military issued duffle bag under a tall table with two chairs. Chaff came over right away, shaking Peeta’s hand. “Home for good?” asked the older man of about fifty with closely cropped curly hairs that was greying at the temples.  

 

“Yeah,” Peeta said quietly.  It had been three months since Finn’s death.  Three months since he’d disappeared forever.   Peeta had very little time left of his tour when that happened, and so had Finnick, but now he was gone.   _What was the point of it all_?

 

“What’s your plan now?”  Chaff set down the coaster and a beer before Peeta.  

 

Shrugging quietly, Peeta took a long drag of the cold liquid. The bar was dead and the faux-vintage jukebox played some top 40s jig that was snappy but trite, reminding him of a dozen songs of the same kind.  He glanced down at his duffle bag and knew he’d have to go home eventually.  He fiddled with the dog tags around his neck, knowing he’d also have to face Annie at some point, have to show himself to the new widow and apologize for not being able to save her husband. The knowledge of this gnawed in his gut until he felt like he would vomit.  He was convinced that he was not the person she wanted to see. The same thought that had plagued him for three months reared up to torment him again: Peeta was the one who should have died.   _Peeta_ , with the overbearing mother, ineffective father, and indifferent brothers. _Not Finn_ , who had a wife, a child, and a bright life to look forward to.

 

“I don’t know. You got a free room, Chaff?” Peeta asked suddenly.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Chaff eyed him strangely. “But your house is just up the road.”

 

Peeta shrugged again, chuckling mirthlessly.  “Yeah, but I’m not going home piss drunk. And I fully intend on getting piss drunk tonight.” He tilted his bottle at the older gentleman.  He’d get wasted so he could drown out the nightmares and the memories.  Then he’d go home, join the world of the civvies, and try to get through the rest of his life.

 

“Hey,” Chaff said, leaning in to speak to him with a low, sotto voice.  “You got the same look about you that I had when I came back after my second tour in Vietnam.  This is not a good time for you to be alone, even if it's what you want the most.”

 

Peeta swallowed the mouthful of beer, the bubbles hanging frozen in his chest as the beer made its way down.  “Thanks,” he said noncommittally.  He was suddenly angry with a vehemence that took him by surprise, but he didn’t want to take it out on the older gentleman.  “On that note, I’ll have a beer chaser.  House choice,” he quipped dryly.

 

Chaff stared at him a beat longer than necessary before fetching a bottle of Jack Daniels. Serving the shot, he made to put the bottle back, but Peeta stopped him.

 

“Just leave it,” Peeta said as he knocked back the small glass of amber-colored liquid.

  
  



	2. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 (chapter 2 of 7)

**Part 1**

 

**_You've got a problem with the way that I am_ **

**_They say I'm trouble and I don't give a damn_ **

**_But when I'm bad, I know I'm better_ **

**_I just wanna get loose_ **

**_And turn it up for you, baby_ **

 

 **_-from Queen of the Night_ ** **by Whitney Houston**

 

**_8 years later_ **

**_Katniss_ **

 

“There she is!  My greatest triumph!” squealed Effie Trinket as she burst into the recording studio.  Katniss quietly sipped her warm tea, her voice tired from recording all morning, which also gave her the perfect excuse to not respond to the flamboyant publicist. Instead, Katniss acknowledged her deafening, high-pitched praise with a nod and a tight smile.  Katniss wasn’t the only one put-out by the sound of her voice.

 

“I believe you are the only person who possesses the octave annoying enough to penetrate the sound barriers in this studio,” groused Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss’ manager, as he tried to soothe his ears from the onslaught of Effie’s voice.

 

“Oh, go catch crotch-rot, you Neanderthal!” hissed Effie as she turned towards Katniss.  Haymitch chuckled at her insult - it had become a kind of schtick with the two of them to insult each other every time they met. “Twelve time Grammy winner at the ripe old age of 25!  The fourth album to go platinum in as many years!  And you were the only singer not hosted under their label to be invited to sing at Beyonce’s and Jay-Z’s wedding. Lady Gaga is hurling green envy at you even as we speak!”

 

Katniss looked up at the ceiling, hoping some deity, any deity, would save her from the effusions of her publicist. Effie Trinket worked for Capitol Records and was responsible for the look and style of Katniss’ albums, as well as ensuring they got the most market exposure possible.  She was admirably persistent and remarkably astute about launching albums - she worked with the best talent in the business.  But she was also shallow, shrill, and vain to the point of nausea, and while she was critical to creating the image of Katniss Everdeen, aka _The Mockingjay_ , tolerating her theatrics was part of the devil’s blood that Katniss had to pay for success.

 

“Montreal.  2013.  Lady Gaga actually had her backup singer vomit green goo during a live performance. She would never vomit it herself,” said Haymitch, quite unhelpfully.

 

Effie wrinkled her nose at him.  “Don’t you have a bottle of Absolut you can drown in?”  She turned with a saccharine smile.  “Now, all tour dates are covered - VIP Passes, the tour buses courtesy of Coca Cola, every perk you are accustomed to is ready.  We just need your fabulousness to be well-rested and ready to go.  First stop - Las Vegas.  Here we come!”  She clapped her hands in delight as Haymitch made a vulgar sign behind her back that made Katniss almost spit up her mouthful of tea.  Effie was completely oblivious to his ribbing and rambled on and on about the preparations for their departure, the sponsors, and every other bit of minutia that Katniss generally did not have to think too much about any more.

 

Instead, her mind went to her sister, who was studying medicine at UCLA. Katniss wanted to call Prim again, but she resented Katniss hovering over her.  And yet Katniss couldn’t resist.  She had practically raised Prim.  Their father’s death had emotionally annihilated their mother, leaving Katniss to care for her sister any way she could, and Katniss had only had a handful of real talents. She was brilliant with a bow and arrow, courtesy of her nature-loving father who taught her how to shoot and hunt as soon as she could cock a bowstring, but that could only get her so far.

 

However, she had a voice so distinct that even when she was in elementary school, her music teachers marveled at her raw natural talent, encouraging her to pursue the perfecting of her singing until she’d made it into Juilliard School of the Arts.  And Katniss was a ruthless survivor - her sister’s survival had demanded it.  She did everything and anything for money to take care of her and wasn’t sorry for anything she had had to do to keep her dressed and fed.  Now, Prim had her school paid, she didn’t wear hand-me-downs and tatters but designer clothes, she drove a grey Audi 3000, and Katniss had even bought her the house she lived in while she studied.

 

This all happened because Katniss never gave up on herself, never stopped her relentless pursuit of her goal. She was the youngest singer to have amassed 6 Grammys on one night and have four albums go platinum in a row, including her debut album, _Queen of the Night_ and her current album, _Girl on Fire_.  Katniss was indeed on fire, and she meant to make the most of it.  She had no time for romance, parties, or frivolous friendships - all of those things were a distraction.  She wanted everything she couldn’t find in her dismal childhood - safety, security, the impenetrable wall of well-being, the power to control what took place around her.

 

Effie finally exhausted herself and gave Katniss a hug, which Katniss returned half-heartedly - she didn’t like being touched - before Effie flicked Haymitch off and left the recording room.  Katniss shook her head at the two of them.  

 

“I’m going to work out,” she said abruptly, jumping off of the wooden stool she’d been perched on the entire time.

 

“Hey,” called Haymitch as she made to walk out of the studio.  “We got a new head of security.”

 

She turned to look at Haymitch, her face furrowed in confusion.  “Where’s Boggs?”

 

“He had an emergency and had to go to Texas to be with his parents this morning.  Apparently, his mother is very ill.  You were recording so I didn’t want to bother you.”

 

 _Damn!_ Boggs had been with her for 3 years and was one of the few people she trusted.  It was hard to find people who could be relied upon.  Ever since she’d become famous, Katniss discovered that people would go to any lengths to get close to a celebrity and a person never knew who they were really dealing with.  Boggs was uncomplicated - he wasn’t an idle chatterer, he was punctual, and did his job of protecting her with utmost respect and diligence.  It hurt her heart to know he wouldn’t be around anymore.  

 

“Will he come back?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, he said he would, but I can’t leave you without a personal bodyguard until he does.  He said he’d call when he was back up north.”

 

“And I will hire him right back the minute he calls, do you understand that?” she said passionately. This situation rattled her sense of calm, and she didn’t like it at all.  “Who’s my new guy then?”

 

“Thirty-three year old, Ex-military, super clean background, excellent references.  He worked as head of security under President Snow and did a stint with President Paylor before going into private service. Name’s Peeta Mellark.  I just hired him today.  He has a Master belt in Krav Maga, Brazilian Jiu-jitsu - the works.”

 

Katniss was upset.  If there was one thing she didn’t handle well, it was surprises.  They were the things she couldn’t control, and events she couldn’t control frightened her the most.  It brought on her panic attacks, and she knew Boggs would appear in her nightmares tonight.

 

“Fine, where is he?  I want to get a workout in before we pack up for the tour.”  She literally felt like she’d punctuated every word with her misery.

 

“My office,” he answered.

 

Katniss didn’t spare her manager another word and left the room to find this Mellark.  When she entered Haymitch’s office, she cast a glance around, looking for the man who would now be her personal protection.  Someone who had been sitting next to the studio door stood,and suddenly she was face to face with a man of medium build, though stocky and muscular.  Katniss eyed him suspiciously, unsure whether she should trust him or not.

 

She looked up at his face and was taken aback by the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.  He had a remarkably sweet expression for someone who’s sole purpose was to kick the asses of anyone who got inside her personal space. His hair gleamed in the fluorescent light, gold with streaks of sun-bleached white, the kind of hair surfer’s dreamed of having.  He was impeccably dressed - navy blue suit with a crisp, white shirt and a grey and blue tie that picked up the rare blue color of his eyes and made them stand out. In a word, he was handsome.

 

He stood quietly, waiting for her appraisal, and she knew right away that he had good sense.  “I’m Katniss Everdeen,” she said, holding out her hand. “You’re Peeta Mellark?”

 

“Yes.  I’ll be leading your personal security detail,” he said in a soothing, mellow voice that almost put Katniss at ease.  His hand, which took her proffered one, was large and warm, and she thought she smelled the scent of vanilla, which filled her body with a sense of well-being that disarmed her completely.

 

Rattled by his appearance and by his undeniable good looks, Katniss was unable to formulate a sentence for several moments.  Finally, she blurted out the first safe thing that came to mind.  “Okay, well then, I, ah...I’m going for a workout.” She turned away before he could see her blush and walked down the hallway, expecting him to follow.  “I’m easy to work with…all things considered...what with my schedule and all.” She could feel herself beginning to ramble and didn’t know how to make herself stop.  


She turned to see that he wasn’t following her.  “Are you coming or not?” she snapped, more forcefully than she’d intended.

 

Peeta crossed his arms in front of him, looking down at her with an imposing stare. “Ma’am, I’m the head of your security detail. It would probably be a good idea to get an idea of your security apparatus before deciding who will accompany you to your various activities.”

 

Katniss’ face twisted in irritation. “You are the head of my security detail, meaning you work for _me_.  And I’m telling you, I’m going to the gym and you are coming with me.  You will be with me at all times, whenever I need you.”  Katniss’ voice started to rise and a small part of her wondered at why she was actually becoming so angry with this Mellark .  “Now, I need someone I can depend on. You signed an agreement - that means no pictures, no gossip, no pap access - nothing. The minute I feel I can’t trust you, you’re gone.  I won’t treat you like my waiter, expect you to give me pedicures or anything like that.  That’s not the kind of employer I am, but I do expect you to do as I say.”  

 

Peeta visibly paled in anger, his eyes flaring before he turning on his heel, nearly knocking Haymitch over as he attempted to make a quick exit from the room.

 

“I didn’t sign up for this, Abernathy,” Peeta said, and though his voice was calm, he was clearly frustrated.  “I’m not the guy who walks behind her, carrying her bags and towels. If you want me to do what you asked me to do, at the level you require, I need to take a survey of your existing security system and recommend changes. I can’t do that if I’m babysitting Ms. Everdeen at the gym.”

 

Katniss’ eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to tell him exactly who she thought he was but Haymitch intervened.  “Katniss, just let Thresh go with you.  Peeta’s right - he has a slightly different purpose here.”

 

Katniss was not used to being overruled, and her resentment reached a boiling point. She shot a furious glance in the direction of the newest member of her security team but his face remained completely impassive, cool under the glare most people found intimidating.  A new flush stained her cheeks under Peeta Mellark’s icy stare, and suddenly, it was her turn to feel intimidated. “Fine, then. I’ll take Thresh while you train this one,” she spat, satisfied with the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes before his face resumed its controlled expression again. She knew she was being petulant and petty, but she felt he’d left her no other choice. When Thresh arrived, she turned without a word and stomped out of the room.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss worked out with a fury at the gym, trying to understand exactly why she was so angry. She was not the most self-aware person in the world and did not dwell very long on her feelings. However, as she yanked the handles of the elliptical machine, she figured it out. She didn’t like being discounted or thought of as more frivolous than she really was. She was many things but a diva, she was not.  Somehow this Peeta Mellark had made her feel that way.

 

After she completed her round on free-weights, she tipped her head towards Thresh, who was sitting quietly in the waiting room, reading from the various magazines that were set on the table by the managers.  Thresh had been with her for years and was a discrete, loyal, young man  who took his job very seriously. She’d had to fire the guard before him, a hulking, viking-like specimen of pure testosterone named Cato, because he’d broken confidentiality and was caught trying to sell photos of her to the tabloids.  That had been an ugly moment in her life, which made Thresh’s quiet competence and loyalty more important to her.

 

When Katniss was done, she stopped by the locker room to pull out her spare water bottle and cell phone. As she turned the lock, she noticed a paper wedged in the opening of the locker.  A wave of anxiety washed over her as she thought _Not again_.  With shaky hands, she opened the door, grasping the page before it tumbled to the ground. She took a quick glance around, her senses heightened as she listened for the presence of another person in the rows of neat, metal lockers surrounding her.  She stared at the page for several moments before unfolding it. Even before she could make out the words, she knew what she was looking at, knew from the rough-hewn edges of the newspaper and magazine letters, snipped with a mad but methodical hand, pressed with care onto the white, unlined paper.

 

As if waking from a trance, Katniss grabbed her things and ran as fast as her legs could take her to where Thresh sat. The look on her face was such that he stood up quickly, hand moving automatically to his holster.

 

“Katniss, are you okay?” he said as she began to shake.

 

“Y-yes…” she stuttered.  “We have to go!”  Her breath came in pants, and she knew she was close to a panic attack.

 

Thresh had one hand on her elbow, with the other, dialing his cell. “Something’s happened. Bring the car around. Now!” he barked into it as he guided her from the building.

 

Katniss managed to keep her composure until she made it out of the gym, schooling her face into a blank expression before the other patrons. She didn’t need the gossip in her life or more paps following her than already did on a regular basis. Even as she thought this, she saw three men standing casually across the street from the gym entrance, their lenses flying up at the sight of her as she ducked quickly into the sleek, black car.

 

“Go!” she said as Thresh shut the door behind him.  The car pulled away at all speed as Katniss allowed her terror free reign, her breath bursting out of her chest in waves of panic.  Thresh held her by her upper shoulders, trying to get her to focus her dazed vision on him. He spoke but she could not hear past the roaring of pounding blood in her ears.  Finally, she shoved the paper into his hand.  As his eyes swept the missive, his face became harder and harder.   He pulled out a cell phone again and pressed it once, activating the speed dial.

 

“Haymitch?  Yeah. Our guy’s been at it again.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss did not remember the drive home. All she knew, all she could think of, was _I’m not safe, I’m not safe_. Her mind spun out of control, thinking first of her sister, who at this moment was probably getting home from class. But she knew better than to try to call her in the condition she was in.  When they drove through the gate of her driveway, Katniss started to feel calmer, though she did not entirely lose the sense of nausea that was left over from the stress of finding the note.

 

Gale Hawthorne, one of her oldest friends and part of her security team, met her at the car, followed by Haymitch and the new guy, Peeta Mellark, who stood discreetly behind the older man.  Haymitch held the door as she stumbled out, her bag clutched to her midriff.  

 

“What happened?” Gale asked, helping her keep her balance when she seemed about to fall.  Gale and Katniss were so similar in appearance, anyone who met them was sure they were brother and sister.  Katniss stared at him, as if he should be able to read her mind. They’d been through this before, and it was asinine of him to think that talking about it again would make things better.

 

Thresh made to answer, but Katniss barrelled past everyone and went straight into the house.  She could just barely hear Haymitch’s expletive recede behind her as she slammed her bags down at the entrance.

 

Her entourage followed shortly after - Haymitch, Thresh, Gale, and Peeta.  Inside, Effie and Cressida, her promotional assistant, were studying prints from Katniss’ latest album cover while two of her dancers, Madge and Johanna, bustled around in the kitchen.  One look at Katniss’ face, however, brought everyone’s activities to a halt.  But Katniss did not speak to anyone and went directly into the study, expecting to be followed.

 

“Shut the door,” she said when Haymitch, Gale, and Peeta were inside.

 

“Her stalker’s made his move again,” Haymitch said by way of explanation, dropping the letter on the desk.

 

“Where did you find it?” Gale asked, staring at the note.  After taking a moment to read the message, he whistled, “Damn, this fucker is crazy.”

 

“May I?” Peeta interjected, taking the letter off of the desk by the corner, as if it would explode.  Katniss nodded, watching him hold the letter up to the light, examining every crease and crevice.  Katniss recalled, with shame, the way she’d behaved earlier.  It was clear he had far more expertise than she’d given him credit for.  

 

“Where did you find this?” he asked as he squinted at something on the page.

 

“In my gym locker.  It was wedged in the door.” Her voice shook as she spoke, and she resented display of weakness.

 

“Haymitch mentioned this has happened several times.  Have you had the documents analyzed by an expert?” he asked as he set the paper down.

 

Katniss glanced at Haymitch, who simply shook his head.  

 

Peeta took a deep breath, appearing lost in thought.  Katniss glanced down at the open paper, a shiver racing up her spine. The message was constructed to convey the maximum, premeditated hatred:

 

_Katniss, you bitch. You take everything good from others and keep it for yourself. The time is coming for you to die._

 

Gale stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “He’s not going to hurt you, okay?”

 

“I don’t think any of us can say that with certainty, the way things stand right now,” Peeta said in a matter of fact manner.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gale snapped.  “Haymitch, where did you find this clown?”

 

Peeta’s eyes flashed but otherwise, he remained composed.  “Haymitch, how many letters did we count today?”

 

Haymitch stepped behind the desk and opened a drawer, pulling out at a manila envelope. He set the pages down - letters similar to the one Katniss had just received, filled with drawings of a mutilated woman’s body, images that were so nauseating, Katniss had to look away.

 

“We’ve gotten at least thirty so far,” he answered.

 

“And you haven’t called the police or involved even a private investigator?”

 

“I don’t want the police involved. That’s just bad publicity, and I don’t want to be in the Enquirer,” Katniss said dismissively.

 

“Ms. Everdeen,” Peeta said.

 

“Just call me Katniss.”

 

“Yes, Ms. Everdeen,” he repeated, a scowl settling on his face, and though the way he said her name made her stomach flip, she couldn’t help but think that he was rather unlikeable.  “You have no clue what security is and what it takes to achieve it.”

 

Gale snorted, crossing his arms in front of him, his biceps bulging as he clenched and unclenched his muscles in anger. “Katniss runs a pretty casual household, but that doesn’t mean that the place isn’t secure.”

 

“Really?  Your gate has a faulty motor in the mechanical arm which is going to break down at any time. Your talk box is broken.  You have open verandas, pools, and gardens that are not fenced in, allowing easy access to an attacker on foot.  People come and go without any identification.  You’ve had at least two known invasions into your personal space…”

 

“What do you mean, two?  There was only the one today!” Katniss yelled, angry at the cavalier way he enumerated all her security lapses, his dark gaze making her feel as if all these defects were personal affronts on her character. Yet at the same time, she was terrorized  over the implication that she might, indeed, be overexposed to danger due to her own ignorance.  His blue eyes held her gaze as she felt her indignation rise within her.

 

Haymitch and Gale exchanged a glance before Haymitch spoke.  “Katniss, the stalker - he broke into the house and left a letter in your bedroom.”

 

“What?” Katniss exclaimed, anger making all of her muscles tense up until she was sure she would not be able to move.  But a second later, fear flooded her body, and dark shadows hovered around her, threatening to consume her with every strangled beat of her heart  “How could you not tell me this?”

 

“We didn’t want to scare you,” Gale interjected.

 

“I don’t pay you to not scare me, Haymitch!  And you, Gale?  Haymitch is a paid employee, but you?” she hissed accusingly. “You’re supposed to be my best friend!  You’re not supposed to keep secrets from me.”  Katniss chanced a glance at Peeta, who’s face was the picture of professional detachment.

 

“What if Prim had been in the house when that...sick bastard...was here?  What then?” she hurled the question like a grenade in the room. Peeta cocked his head to the side in confusion.  “How do I protect my sister if I don’t know what’s happening to me?”

 

Katniss marched to the door, leaving all three men staring dumbly after her.  As she reached the door, she half-turned towards her new bodyguard. “Mr. Mellark. You have free reign.  Do whatever it takes to get this situation under control.” She yanked the door open, the brass knob banging violently against the wall behind it before she ran through the large living room, past the ladies standing nervously by and up to her bedroom, where she could be alone.

 

But when she got there, she trembled.  

 

Scattered over Katniss’ nightstand lay pictures of her friends and family, not a single one out of place, while an old book about plants lay nearest her bed, still opened to the page she’d been reading.  Her pale green bedspread was the perfect compliment to walls dotted with small, delicately hand-painted flowers.  Someone, most likely Effie, had taken the initiative to place fresh flowers on the table that lay in the corner of the room.  The windows were thrown wide open, and the billowing curtains that lay over the opening to the balcony swayed in the breeze.  Light streamed into the room, dancing over the floor, shifting as small, white, perfectly formed clouds crossed the robin’s egg sky.  The whole room smelled of sunshine and summer.  In short, it was beautiful, but Katniss found no peace in it.

 

She glanced wildly from one side of the room to the other, wondering where the man had walked, what he had touched, where in this room he had dropped another hideous letter.  Her horror flickered higher, becoming a scorching flame within her chest, and abruptly, Katniss ran for the bathroom.   

 

Slamming the door quickly, Katniss locked herself in and slid down its white surface to bury her head in her arms.  She could feel the panic rising as her tears began to fall, her sobs echoing in the silence.  Her sanctuary was no longer sacred.  

 

And Prim. How could Katniss keep her safe from an enemy that was largely invisible but who also appeared to be everywhere at once?  If Katniss was frightened for herself, she was terrified for her sister. She resolved even harder to take measures to protect Prim that were beyond even what she would do for herself, her sister’s safety being the the single greatest priority in her life.

 

_The time has coming for you to die._

 

The evil words echoed in her head, and suddenly Katniss felt as though she were sitting in her own tomb.  She wondered if it would ever be possible for her to feel safe again.   

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss almost felt like a human being again after she took a long, hot bath.  She had just toweled off and dressed in loose pants and a tank top when she heard a discreet knock at the door.  Katniss wasn’t in the mood for company but decided she couldn’t squirrel herself away forever.

 

Opening the door, she was almost run over by Johanna and Madge, her two backup dancers and good friends since high school. They were the only two people, besides her sister, who could get away with barging into her bedroom without permission.

 

“Okay, Brainless, you’ve got some explaining to do!” Johanna exclaimed as she flopped down onto Katniss’ king-sized, four poster bed, her short, dark hair bouncing wildly around her head.  “God, I love this thing,” she said, nestling into the down of the comforter.  “It’s amazing that you own the best bed in North America, and you get the least amount of use out of it.”

 

“Fuck off Johanna,” Katniss said as her cheeks flushed crimson. “I sleep very well in it…”

 

“That’s the problem. All you do is sleep in it!” Johanna slapped the mattress.  “You know, you could get some good bounce out of this…”

 

“Stop it, Johanna.  That’s not what we’re here for,” Madge scolded.  She was a tall, leggy blond with peaches and cream features and powder-blue eyes. Out of the three of them, Madge had the look of a Victoria’s Secret model, a striking contrast to Johanna’s athletic build. “What happened today?”

 

“And who’s that blond dish that’s been hanging around here?” Johanna interjected.

 

“Johanna!  Get your priorities straight!” Madge exclaimed, but then she seemed to think about Johanna’s words, adding with a giggle, "Though he is fifty shades of yummy, K!” Johanna guffawed, pulling Madge roughly onto the bed.  “Seriously, though, what happened today?”

 

Katniss chuckled at their antics. “God, I needed a laugh.” She crawled to the middle of the bed, sitting cross-legged before them.  “Well, you know those letters I’ve been getting?”

 

“You mean from your demented stalker?” Johanna asked.

 

“Yeah, well, he sent another one today, except he went to my gym to drop it off.  I found it in my locker.”

 

Both girls sat up. “You’re kidding me!” Madge said, her eyes wide with fear.

 

“They have to have surveillance cameras,” Johanna suggested.

 

“Yes, but not in the locker rooms. In any case, the new security guy said he’d be working on it.”  Johanna waggled her eyebrows but Katniss ignored her as she continued. “I didn’t know this, but the stalker broke into the house and left a letter here,” she spread her hands to indicate the room.  “Right on my bed!” she huffed angrily. “Can you believe it? And Haymitch and Gale both knew it!”

 

“Is that why you replaced Boggs?  Because the guy broke into the house?” Madge asked.

 

Katniss shook her head. “No, Haymitch hired Mellark because Boggs went to his family - I think his mother’s sick.  But the new one is ex-military and former Secret Service which I think is what Haymitch was looking for.”

 

“That’s bad that Haymitch feels he needs to go that far.” Johanna looked around her as if expecting someone to leap out from behind the curtains. “But I’ll happily put myself in danger if it means Mr. Yummy gets to guard me.  I mean, I love Boggs - he’s my guy - but this Mellark fellow is definitely easy on the eyes.”

 

“And he definitely doesn’t mind looking at you,” Madge said conspiratorially. Katniss face flamed to life.

 

“You saw him all of thirty seconds today!” Katniss exclaimed, repressing a nervous laugh and wondering why the idea of him looking at her made her stomach flutter.  “And anyway, he’s not a very nice person, at least, as far as I’ve seen.”

 

“You just hired him today though, right?” Madge asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, you don’t know what he’s like then,” she giggled. “He might be the love of your life, and you just don’t know it yet.”  

 

“Or the lay of your life. God knows, either would be fine at this point,”  Johanna said in exasperation.

 

Madge leaned forward, forcing Katniss and Johanna to get closer to hear her.  “I saw him for all of thirty seconds but I’ll tell you what, you were the only thing he was looking at the entire time I was watching.  And thirty seconds is a long time to be staring at someone’s ass.”

 

“You know, my life could be in mortal danger and all you care about is whether I get any or not.  What kind of friends are you?” Katniss groused, though there was a certain gutter humor about the whole thing.

 

“We have nothing but your well-being at heart,” Johanna said, holding her hand up and looking upwards, with an air so beatific, she was the picture of virtue. “And a good fuck would do wonders for your your health.” Johanna laughed at herself.  “One in the morning and one before bedtime, for ten days.  Exceed dosage as needed within any twenty-four hour period.  No risk of overdose.  Signed, Dr. Mason.”

 

“Oh god!” both Katniss and Madge exclaimed, dissolving into a heap of laughter.  It was a horrible situation, and Katniss was truly at risk but she couldn’t help but think that she would have gone crazy a long time ago if she didn’t have these two girls in her life.

 

 


	3. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 (Chapter 3 of 7)

**Part 2**

**_Clock strikes upon the hour_ **

**_And the sun begins to fade_ **

**_Still enough time to figure out_ **

**_How to chase my blues away_ **

**_I've done alright up 'til now_ **

**_It's the light of day that shows me how_ **

**_And when the night falls_ **

**_Loneliness calls_ **

 

**-from _I Wanna Dance With Somebody_ by Whitney Houston**

 

**Peeta**

 

“What do you think?” Peeta asked as he watched Darius Flint studying the pages carefully, the manila folder filled with similar sheets set haphazardly at the corner of the desk.  Unable to resist, Peeta straightened the folders and sheets until they were even and sitting neatly on the desk.  Darius looked up, casting a glance at Peeta, and smiled while shaking his head.

 

“You don’t change, do you?” he said as he pulled out a magnifier and returned to his examination.  Darius had worked Special Ops when Peeta had done his last tour and later they’d worked with the Secret Service together before Peeta left to work on his own.

 

“I hate disorder,” Peeta said with a slight huff of distaste.

 

“When I was discharged, I could tolerate anything except seeing my shoes piled up.” He scanned the crinkles on the page as he spoke. “If my shoes weren’t in perfect order, I’d have a panic attack in the walk-in closet. My wife - she’s a fucking saint and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise - she’d come in and set them just right so I’d calm down again.”

 

“How did you stop it?” Peeta asked with true interest.  

 

“Therapy.  One day, I walked into that fucking closet and kicked those shoes all over the place,” Darius chuckled, his green eyes twinkling in mischief.  “Fucked up everything. I decided those shoes aren’t running me,” he leaned back in his chair.  “These sheets are covered in prints, probably from the half-dozen people who’ve handled these pages. Doesn’t help.” Darius rubbed his eyes as he shifted in the leather chair, his flaming red hair reflecting the early morning light from the large glass window behind him. He shared a room with two other operatives who were out and about, but it was well lit with ultra-modern furniture that was ergonomic in design. It was a dramatic improvement over the cramped closet they’d worked in together in the past.

 

Peeta was overcome with frustration again.  It hadn’t occurred to anyone in that circus-house to have these pages professionally evaluated.  He had been a part of several security overhauls but this was proving to be one of the most extensive because key decisions had not been made that would have made his job easier.  The image of Katniss Everdeen flashed before him, and he pushed it away with an audible grunt of annoyance. “You can’t get anything from them?” Peeta asked, not surprised at this finding.

 

“No, and honestly, you probably won’t. The placement of the fingerprints, probably including yours, are clearly positioned as those of handlers. But the creator of this letter - I’d bet my ass he didn’t leave so much as an eyelash behind.  That’s pretty evident, particularly on this sample here, which is very clean, compared to the others.” He handed the page to Peeta, who perused it carefully.  

 

“This is the letter that was left in her bedroom,” he recalled as he reread the paste and cut-out message:

 

_How does it feel to know you could close your eyes and never wake up again?  Even when you sleep, I’m watching you._

 

Peeta furrowed his brow. “What concerns me is that these are not letters of obsession. This guy is threatening her.” He looked up at Darius, who was watching him carefully in turn. “He’s been in her house once and made it past her security to leave a note in her gym.”

 

“Well, he’s determined, I’ll give him that much.” Darius sat up and leaned on his elbows.  “The next time you get one of these love notes, treat it like a crime scene.  Keep it clean.” He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a handful of large, plastic bags, not unlike gallon Ziplock freezer bags.  “Put it in one of these and bring it directly to me. I’ll have a good look at it, but I’m telling you, this guy probably knows what he’s doing. No fibers in the glue, no hair, probably no prints either.”

 

“Thanks, Darius. I appreciate it,” Peeta said as he gathered up the pages, straightening out his suit and tie as he stood. “I’ll be back when I get something a little more useful.”

 

Darius stood with him and led him towards the elevators. “You should get the local police involved. You don’t want it turning ugly on your watch.”

 

Peeta chuckled.  “That’ll never happen on my watch, but Ms. Everdeen is really trying to keep the police out of it unless things get serious.”  

 

Darius scoffed in disbelief. “It is serious!  He’s been inside her house,” he exclaimed as he held a glass door open for Peeta.

 

“Yeah, well, she’s got a thick skull, and she’s used to getting her way.” Peeta thought back to the first time he saw her in the recording studio. He knew who she was even before Chaff introduced Peeta to his friend, Haymitch - she was one of the hottest pop stars of the last several years.  However, he didn't realize how very small and young she really was until she stood before him, making her introductions.  She was a slender woman with pitch-black hair that was plaited in a braid. She had small curves, but they were all in the right places. Her skin glowed with an olive tint that looked like smooth satin under the unforgiving fluorescent light of the manager’s office.  He had imagined her skin probably felt as smooth as it looked, but he reined in that line of thinking right away.  He had no business thinking like that and not only because she was about to be his boss.  His irritation with himself certainly contributed to his shortness with her that day.

 

“Hey, what’s the gig like, working with Katniss Everdeen?” Darius asked, interrupting Peeta’s thoughts.  “Damn, I’d give my left nut for a job like that.”  

 

Peeta gave his friend a half-smile.  “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

 

“Not easy?  How is it not easy to look at a girl like Katniss Everdeen all day long?” Darius asked, his thoughts visibly wandering to the most inappropriate places.  Peeta grunted in annoyance, not the least of which was because he’d entertained these thoughts, for however briefly it might have been.

 

“You don’t understand. These celebrity types are a little complicated to work with.  They have a thousand people around them. And the guys she’s had up until now are a bunch of amateurs.” Peeta suddenly thought of Gale Hawthorne, the way he hovered around Katniss with his pseudo-machismo and ungraciously thought that Gale wouldn’t know how to take care of a woman like Katniss Everdeen if she came with an instructional manual. Peeta thought about the bloody drawings, the broken call box, and the ease with which he had entered the compound while testing the security system on his first day and became annoyed all over again.  

 

“Well, if you ever need an assistant, I got you.” Darius clapped Peeta on the shoulder.  “I’m reliable and follow directions and would do anything the lady asked me to do,” he laughed.  “Just don’t tell my wife I said that.”  Peeta shot Darius a sharp look, though he suppressed a smile.

 

“That’s the problem. You can’t always give a client what they want but you do have to give them what they need.” He turned and gave his hand to Darius, whose glee and good humor almost spread to Peeta. “And Ms. Everdeen really has no idea what she needs right now.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta rubbed his eyes as he left the building, checking his PDA, tracking appointments, materials delivery, and other items on his project management software.  The nightmares had been almost overwhelming the previous night, and he felt physical fatigue.  He saw Finnick every single night in his dreams. Sometimes he was his usual, jocular self, so full of life and potential that Peeta was sure he was still alive.  Other times, all Peeta saw was Finn’s limp body on the ground, with no other recourse but to leave him as gunfire ratcheted all around.  It was this last time with Finnick that played on loop over and over in Peeta’s mind until he had every single atom of the moment etched into his soul.  

 

The last nightmare he’d had during the night, in particular, had resulted in Finnick calling out to him as Peeta ran to take up the gunfight, asking Peeta why he had abandoned him.  He tried to explain to his friend that he would have never voluntarily left him, fighting to return to where Finnick lay.  But every time Peeta tried to get to him, the distance between them remained the same. When he woke, he was weighed down by the feelings of guilt, frustration, and desperation so palpable, he found no relief in waking.  

 

When he found himself in that state, as he had that very morning, he sat down to sketch scenes that would give him the serenity that he needed to get through the day - the mountains surrounding his home, the sea washing up on the shore, or swimming with his “nephew,” Tristen, who had the same bronze colored hair and brilliant green eyes as his father.  

 

In this frame of mind, he’d sought out Darius, one of his few remaining friends, to help him with the analysis of the note.  Peeta had not made many new friends since his discharge eight years ago.  He knew what his therapist would tell him - that he needed friendships and human contact  more than ever. But Peeta had a hard time really keeping relationships, though he was generally very personable when he was not working. He sensed how fragile and easily breakable everything was and did not think he had it in him to grieve another loss. The only person he let his guard down for was Tristen because he did not have a father anymore who would be vulnerable with him.

 

His thoughts flew to Katniss as he drove to her studio.  She was a mega star, one of the hottest singers of the last decade, but she had a security apparatus that was no better than the average upper-middle class household. If something worse hadn’t happened to her until now, it was because no one had been sufficiently motivated to hurt her so far.  Again, he felt an irrational anger rise up in him when he considered the condition he’d found things in and satisfaction at what he had been able to accomplish in the last few weeks:

 

_Repair and extension of perimeter fence - check_

_Electronic alarm system with back-up electrical generator - check_

_Rotation schedule of security personnel - check_

_Repair of call box - check_

_IT support for social media and electronic accounts - check_

 

As he parked the car and took out his ID badge, he decided to quickly pocket it and test the front office staff of the building that housed Katniss’ studio. He’d shuffled and hired staff for the security desk, having been granted significant freedom to do so, given that Kantiss’ label was the primary lease holder of the property.  He stepped up to the metal detector, bypassing it neatly before he was halted at the entry.

 

“Badge, please,” said a large, burly man with arms crossed over his broad chest.

 

Peeta pulled it out, showing it to the oversized gentleman when a small, wiry man rushed up to where they stood.

 

“Brutus, you don’t have to ID him.  He’s Mr. Mellark,” the guard said quietly.

 

Peeta shook his head at this. “No, he did the right thing. Everyone gets carded, do you understand?  I don’t care if Ms. Everdeen’s mother shows up. No one goes by without signing in and showing the proper identification. And I’ll fire anyone who doesn’t follow directions.” He nodded at the guard named Brutus, who exuded pride, and his sheepish companion before making his way to the elevator. He thought back to something Darius said and muttered to himself, “No, not on my watch.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta reviewed the schedules with Thresh while waiting for Katniss and her dancers to finish rehearsal.  Gale stood at the entrance of the stage room, arms crossed, tilting his head only slightly when Peeta walked by.  Peeta spared very few words for him, and it was clear that Gale barely tolerated him. That suited Peeta just fine, as he was not particularly enamored of the giant meat head anyway.  If it hadn’t been made clear how close Gale was to Katniss, Peeta probably would have fired him by now.

 

It was already dark out when they finally wrapped up, a large group of people streaming out from the pseudo stage, scurrying away in their workout gear, duffle bags, and backpacks slung over their backs.  Peeta kept a close watch on the exit doors, making sure that the movement of human traffic went in only one direction. He caught sight of Madge and Johanna, Katniss’ two closest friends who waved at him from afar, chuckling like school girls. Awkwardly, he returned their greetings with a curt wave of his own,

 

For as much experience as he had acquired in his years of travel, Peeta had never thought about what it took to put together an onstage performance, much less a tour.  It was much like setting up a remote forward location in the military.  A team had to take everything they’d need and set up quickly or risk being attacked unprepared.  Everything had to be torn down and transported just as quickly. Peeta only came to realize it when he had to review the roster of approved personnel who would have access to the star of the show.

 

As he scanned the emptying corridors and moved towards the rehearsal area, Peeta saw Katniss, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the mock stage, stretching her arms and legs.  The hairs that had escaped her braid were matted to her sweaty skin, damp stains flowering over her workout tank-top and boy shorts.  Without makeup and with her hair in disarray, she looked even younger than when they’d first met. He forced himself not to stare at her, looking for somewhere else to focus his attention without appearing rude.

 

He was completely aware that they’d each been studiously avoiding each other since she’d found the latest letter in her gym locker.  He’d immersed himself in the renovations to keep his mind from wandering to her.  They’d started off badly, so even though there had been no other incidents so far, it was pure ice between them. In some ways, it was a relief because being close to Ms. Everdeen made Peeta feel edgy and anxious.

 

However, there was no help for it at the moment.

 

“Ms. Everdeen, I spoke to one of my contacts at a forensics lab,” he started, trying not to startle her from her cool down.

 

Katniss looked at him, her eyes boring into him like silver bullets. He wondered briefly if that was her intent, to destabilize his equilibrium. She was fierce by nature, and it showed on her face even at rest.

 

“What did they say?” she asked as she stood, stretching her long muscles.  Peeta tried not to stare as she leaned against the ballerina bar.  She was truly a dancer, lithe and agile.

 

“I...there were too many fingerprints on most of the notes. The only note that could be examined was the one found in your bedroom.”

 

Katniss stopped her movements, appearing to be absorbed in the shape of the bar she was leaning against.  “They didn’t find anything, did they?” she asked. Her voice was dead, but there was a hint of fear in the way her face paled beneath her words.

 

“No,” Peeta said. “But it is highly likely that your stalker will act again.  In that case, we have to treat anything that comes in as a crime scene. You have to help me with this, since you are the one targeted by him...or her and will be the person most likely to find whatever he leaves behind.” She turned to look sharply at him. “There is no reason to think it could not be a woman.  Whatever you find, you have to hand over to me intact.  Can you do that?”

 

Katniss bowed her head, nodding without speaking and suddenly appeared very small and vulnerable.  Something in her attitude inspired in Peeta an almost overpowering urge to comfort her. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, not sure how to proceed.   

 

At length, she broke the dense silence as she began to gather up her things.  “Would you go back to the compound in my car? I need...I need to do something, and it will give us a chance to talk,” she said.

 

Peeta straightened up. He’d barely had a civil conversation with his “boss” since he’d been hired, and he was loathe to admit it, but he was looking forward to being able to smooth the tension between them.  

 

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll meet you downstairs,” he answered, making arrangements to have his car driven by one of the other team members as he took the short trip down the elevator.  Katniss appeared just as he ended the conversation, a large t-shirt thrown hastily over her dance outfit, which came down almost to her knees. Peeta looked away to keep from staring at the legs that seem to go on indefinitely from the bottom of the hem.  

 

Inside the car, Katniss fidgeted in her seat with nerves that were as loud as the car engine.  Peeta observed her as she stared out the window, twisting the strap of her bag in her hands.  She wasted very little time once they were underway.

 

“It’s…I have a younger sister, Prim. She lived with me up until about six months ago, which was great because I could keep an eye on her.” She continued to worry the bag strap as she spoke.  “But she’s going through a phase...she’s studying medicine, and she all of a sudden wants to be independent. She moved out and so I got her own house near UCLA so she could live alone.” She turned to look at Peeta before looking back out of the car window.  “I didn’t want her to have to let out rooms or work to pay the rent.”

 

"How old is your sister?” Peeta asked.

 

“She’s 22.  Three years younger than me..” She looked down at her fingers and for the first time, he noticed the nails were bitten down.  “I’m a little over protective of her.  I mean, we’re close,but she’s at an age where she is pushing her limits with me.  A little rebellious period, I suppose.”  She looked up at him, and he could see real worry.  “She should grow out of it, right?”

 

“I don’t know if you ever grow out of ‘growing up,’” he said, more gently than usual.  “I don’t know too much about your sister, but it is normal for 22 year-olds to try to be independent.

 

“I guess you’re right,” she said quietly.  

 

Peeta observed her for a few more moments before asking, “What do your parents think of it?”

 

Katniss eyes grew wide for a moment, then narrowed in displeasure.  “My mother doesn’t think much of anything at all.  She...she’s not really present all the time.  Since my father died, she hasn’t really been a participant in our lives.” Katniss ripped the string out of the leather handle of her bag, and Peeta started to pity the object.

 

“I’m very sorry,” he said sincerely.

 

Katniss looked directly into his eyes, and he saw the silver flecks reflecting the midday sun, giving her eyes the look of liquid metal.  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.  She wasn’t always so depressed - my father died suddenly in a mine explosion, and she never recovered.”  She looked out the window again and said, more to herself, “None of us really did.”

 

Peeta stared at her profile,marveling at how hard it was for people to surprise him, and yet Katniss was doing just that. He would have easily taken her for a diva, with her success and beauty, but she had a backstory that compelled him to want to learn more, know more. It went against every rule of professional detachment he had cultivated over the years.

 

“I need to make sure that Prim is safe, even if she won’t come back to the house. What if...What if the man or woman or whoever is leaving those letters suddenly decides to go after Prim to get to me?” She said this with honest fear, and he knew what she would ask before she even asked it.

 

“Done,” he said decisively.

 

“What you mean, done?” she asked, clearly flabbergasted by his reaction.

 

“I mean, done. I’ll personally arrange for her protection, and I’ll make sure she is none the wiser for it.”

 

Katniss sat with her mouth open, shock having robbed her completely of speech.  Then, without warning, she gave him a smile that lit up her eyes with the light of gratitude.  It was nothing short of breathtaking.  He had to count the seconds and pretend to look at his phone to keep from staring at her.  “That’s amazing. Yes, that’s exactly what I want. I want her to be safe, but she can’t know that I’m taking care of her. She would think I’m invading her space and wouldn’t forgive me.”  

 

Peeta nodded his agreement.  “Then I’ll do it. She’ll have security and surveillance to ensure her safety. It will be discreet so you’ll get what you want, and she’ll get what she wants. Everyone will be happy.”

 

“Thank you!  I know it might be above and beyond your normal duties, but I’ll pay you for the extra work,” Katniss said, suddenly shy.  

 

Peeta shook his head, his brow furrowing in confusion, as he was not used to being thanked.  “This is exactly what I was hired to do. Protect you and whoever else you think needs protecting, Ms. Everdeen.” Peeta unthinkingly placed his hand on her knee in an attempt to reassure her, but he felt anything less than reassuring as his skin reacted instantly to her, as if pent-up static had snapped between them.  He pulled back quickly, dismayed to find that her skin was even softer than he’d imagined, and pretended to take a call on his cell phone to spare both of them the awkwardness of the moment.

 

**XXXXX**

 

He got out of bed, stretching as dawn broke over the tops of the trees of the lush forest that bordered the homes on Katniss’ property.  He was expected to stay on the premises and was given a room in the guest house just adjacent to the main residence.  He was grateful that he was not in the main house because he had a large degree of autonomy, the building offering a small kitchen and bathroom that he did not have to share with any of the numerous occupants that came in and out of the complex all day.  Ms. Everdeen had a parade of people entering and leaving her home, even when she was supposed to be on break - publicists, music executives, journalists, designers, songwriters - and many more.

 

He rose early and followed his routine - use the bathroom, brush his teeth, comb his hair, make coffee, prepare whatever he would eat that morning, sit down with his phone to review the day as he ate, wash the dishes, return to the bathroom to brush his teeth again, and shave.

 

Getting dressed also proceeded in the same manner. He dressed in the same order every day, down to the sequence of how he put on his socks.  When Peeta had accomplished these goals, he felt satisfied. Everything was safe. Everything was in order. He had asserted his control yet again on his environment, and it made him feel good.  If he took something out of step, it was a bad omen for him, and he spent the rest of his day anticipating the betrayal of his safety - an accident or some complication that would reinforce his belief.  Those days were not easy for him.

 

After he was dressed he took a survey of the property before meeting his team to review Katniss’s schedule. Until now, her movements had been largely local as she prepared for her world tour, so most of their movements had been between her home, the studio, a recent lunch with an old friend, an interview in a large hotel, and endless practices and rehearsals.  But soon, her area of coverage would grow, and he would have to make accommodations for the large crowds and varying venues that were part and parcel to the life of a performer. He accompanied her on most of her public jaunts but also stayed close to home, supervising the modifications that were close to being done.

 

The property had been his first challenge, with its sprawling lawns, bordering a conservation area which initially hadn’t been fenced.  The morning the men came to work on the fence and install the surveillance cameras, she’d stood in the middle of the carefully manicured gardens watching the work, an angry scowl settling over her features.  He thought back to her immediate words as she’d watched the scene...

 

_“Is that really necessary?” she demanded, the wind whipping belligerently through her hair. It would rain that afternoon, and the men were working quickly to install the last of the electronic equipment._

 

_“Good morning to you too, Ms. Everdeen,” Peeta said quietly, satisfied at the sheepish look she gave him as he continued. “Your property is surrounded by ten acres of conservation area.  It would be too easy from someone to hide and penetrate your house through the woods,” Peeta said in a flat voice, wondering if he’d finally get to see a temper tantrum from the Little Diva, as he’d taken to calling her in his mind.  “But you are the boss. You can change anything you want. You did approve this,” Peeta reminded her. When taking this job, he had fully expected to be a witness to all the stereotypical behavior of a young, self-absorbed, world-famous pop star but he had been disappointed every single time, until he’d begun to feel ridiculous about the expectation.  But the nickname had remained._

 

_“I'm aware of that fact,” Katniss responded. “But I hunt in those woods,” she said abruptly, looking forlorn as the lush green forest became obscured by the large, white fence, reinforced and mounted with barbed wire and security cameras._

 

_Peeta felt stupid yet again as Katniss continued to surprise him with her admission. Suddenly, Little Diva seemed completely inappropriate as a description of her, even in his mind.  “You hunt, Ms. Everdeen?” Peeta said incredulously. ._

 

_Katniss’ eyes flashed with irritation. “Why does that surprise you?” she asked in indignation._

 

_“No, I mean, I’m not...I’m not trying to say...I just...hunting?” Peeta babbled as Katniss laughed heartily at his discomfort._

 

_“Don’t lose your cool, Mellark,” she said dismissively. “I was an archery champion in high school.  I can still make the bullseye on a target at 150 meters.” She smiled smugly. “When I hunt, I’m not wasteful. I bring in whatever I catch, but I am just as happy hitting a target.  I mostly just like being out in the woods.”_

 

_“You can still go out,” Peeta suggested.  “With protection.  But my job is to make sure nothing or no one gets in.”_

 

_“I know.” She turned towards him, looking him straight in the eye. Peeta had the feeling of sinking into a glassy lake, the entire world drowned out save for the movement of the currents around him.  “It’s just going to take some getting used to.” She cocked her head to the side, studying him unabashedly, and he felt like he was being examined to the bottom of his soul..._

 

Peeta thought distractedly about the color of her eyes, as turbulent as the rain-cloud filled sky. But the sudden appearance of the object of his imagination, together with Haymitch and Effie shattered him out of his moment of reverie. Peeta quickly left  the enchanted world where Katniss could unravel all his secrets, unfurling her own with one look and entered the one where his only concern was his employer’s safety.

 

“We’re all set up for tonight,” Haymitch said calmly. “Effie has all the rags and online magazines showing up at the red carpet…”

 

“Yes, yes!  Everyone who is anyone will be out tonight to watch our little songbird sing,” Effie chirped.  Katniss surreptitiously rolled her eyes behind her back.

 

“What’s going on tonight?” Peeta asked.

 

“Katniss is giving a live performance at The Hob. It’s one of the biggest nightclubs in L.A.”

 

“I’ve heard of The Hob,” snapped Peeta, his annoyance rising. “Why am I just finding out about this today?”

 

Haymitch sensed Peeta’s increasing irritation and straightened to his full height.  “We just booked this a week ago. It’s good publicity - lots of celebrities and industry hang out there…”

 

Peeta interjected again, speaking slowly, with more menace in his voice. “Why am I just finding out about this today?”

 

“Mr. Mellark.” Katniss stepped between the two men. “I didn’t know either until yesterday.  Haymitch and Effie booked it for the chance to do some last minute publicity for the tour. I’ll do a few songs, and then I’ll be off the stage.”

 

Effie sniffed at Peeta, eyeing him up and down, apparently finding him wanting in her own mind. “Katniss will be taking off for a live tour. This will be an excellent send-off before she begins traveling the world for the next two months.  Everyone is going to see her and love her!”

 

“You can’t do this,” Peeta said quietly, directing his comments at Katniss, but his anger was threatening to spill over. “I can’t protect you if I am the last one to know about your plans.”

 

“That’s all my fault. I took the booking at the last minute. Katniss is usually scheduled out for months.  This happened to be a lucky coincidence,” Haymitch said, turning towards Katniss. “They’re promoting the hell out of this event so we can expect a huge turnout.  We can’t cancel it now.”

 

“All the more reason why you need to keep me in the loop,” Peeta growled, startled at his own vehemence. “I need to go.  Now.  I’m going to sweep the club and make the necessary arrangements.” he stared Haymitch down, who was beginning to darken and become frustrated himself. “If anyone pulls something like this again, I’m out.  You can find yourself another head of security.”  With that, Peeta left them to stare at his retreating back as he restrained himself from kicking a vase on the way out of the house.

 

“Manners!” he heard Effie exclaim as the door closed shut behind him.

 


	4. Part 3

**Part 3**

 

**_I can cast a spell_ **

**_Secrets you can't tell_ **

**_Mix a special brew,_ **

**_Put fire inside of you_ **

**_Anytime you feel_ **

**_Danger or fear_ **

**_Then instantly_ **

**_I will appear_ **

 

**_-from_ ** **“I’m Every Woman” _by Whitney Houston_**

 

**Peeta**

 

It was worse than he thought. The venue was simply a large, T-shaped stage with the audience surrounding the dais on all sides.  Peeta felt a muscle twitch in his jaw as he surveyed the public entrances, took stock of the security which, given the open floor, was slightly better than in most clubs, though not by much. Katniss would be performing without her dancers, meaning she’d have no human buffers between her and a sea of frenzied, half-drunk partiers.

 

“Shit, fuck, and damn!” he cursed as he returned to the compound to assemble his security team.  Peeta walked into the middle of a full rehearsal for the upcoming tour.  

 

“Take if from the top,” Masala, Katniss’ head choreographer called out.  The music swelled out and Katniss’ signature deep, throaty soprano came over the speakers, slow and sultry at first.  She swayed gently to her own rising voice as her dancers seemed to slowly come to life.  Despite Peeta’s pique, he slowed down to watch as, with a precision that was frightening, the music snapped into rhythm, and she gyrated and danced along to it.  She was lip-syncing her own music. Peeta learned she did this often when she had to preserve her voice for a performance. But though she moved less than her dancers, she drove them with her body’s cues and the inflections of her words. It was clear she was the fulcrum of the production.  

 

She looked up at a certain point, and he could swear she was staring at him, following him with her eyes as he shifted to get a better view.  It was an illusion, of course. Singers and performers had to make the audience feel like they were part of the show, fully immersed in the singer’s clutches.  But then she smiled, a slow, dramatic smile that was an invitation more than an expression. Peeta was pinned to the spot as she held his gaze, and suddenly he felt like he was the only one in the room.

 

_I'm every woman_

_It's all in me_

_Anything you want done, baby,_

_I do it naturally_

 

_I can set your needs_

_Like rain unto the seeds_

_I can make a rhyme_

_Of confusion in your mind_

_And when it comes down to some good old-fashioned love_

_I got it, I got it, I got it, got it, baby, baby_

 

Peeta caught himself swaying, pulled like a sailor to a siren, mindlessly adrift, but then he cleared his throat, looking around him as if he had suddenly spoken out loud. Katniss had broken eye contact to do some elaborate series of moves in the interval between verses.  He took the opportunity to vanish, stepping slowly away. He knew that the way he was watching her went beyond the purpose of assessing dangers and planning interventions, and he was sure she perceived that from where she stood, singing as if it were meant for him. She’d inadvertently disarmed him again, and he’d enjoyed that powerlessness a little too much. Everything in his body suddenly ached, his hands itching, like he wanted to grasp and hold something and not let go. He knew what it was; he wasn’t a teenager anymore, after all.  He forced himself to turn completely around and stride off before he did something unconscionable, like let his ever growing desire for his employer show up like a neon sign on his face.

 

**XXXXX**

 

If the club was distasteful when empty, it was perfectly intolerable when jam-packed with patrons and fans.  Peeta instructed the driver to take one car around the back, where club security would set his men up “back stage,” which was really a corner off to the side of the stage where Katniss would be performing.  The distance to her was more than he was comfortable with, and he accepted that he would have to stand with the audience to have the best access to her. Katniss rode in the main limousine with him, Haymitch, Effie, and Gale.  Peeta had insisted that Thresh be her personal driver, as he’d gone through some pains to train the young man.

 

Peeta turned towards Katniss as they slowed in traffic, approaching their destination. He pulled out a box and opened it.

 

“This is for you,” he said, pulling an onyx-colored brooch with gold flecks that blended perfectly with her black cape.  He thought he’d seen a touch of black leather when the cape shifted so he was satisfied that it would match with whatever she wore.  

 

Katniss took the brooch, almost melting at the sight of the jewelry. Upon closer inspection, it was clear it was a dazzling dandelion, it’s weight belying it’s delicate construction.  When she lifted her eyes, Peeta could see every stroke of her dark, glittering, eye makeup, the exaggerated mascara and eyeliner. But it was not enough to dampen the emotion in her stormy grey eyes.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Mellark,” she said softly, rubbing the stone and gold lovingly.

 

Peeta swallowed hard, turning her hand, which was remarkably soft and warm, so that she could see the underside. He pointed to a small blinking red light embedded in a black square.  

 

“It’s a tracker. If anything happens to you, press it and I’ll come.  Wear it everywhere you go,” he said in a voice that was lower than even the confines of the car required.

 

A shift to Peeta’s right alerted him that their conversation was being followed.  “I never took you for a romantic guy, Mellark,” Gale guffawed, so loudly that it cut the atmosphere in the vehicle.  Effie, who sat across from them on the opposing seats facing Katniss and Peeta, perked up in interest.

 

“That is very lovely,” she interjected, ignoring Gale’s vulgar laughter. “And it goes so well with your outfit.”

 

“It’s nice,” Katniss said bluntly as she put it on. “And I love it.” She turned her flashing eyes on Gale, her look such that the laughter died in his mouth immediately.

 

They slowed to a stop. When Haymitch opened the door, the noise from the crowds roared inside the car, taking Peeta aback with the ferocious anticipation of the crowd.  Katniss’ entourage preceded her and to Gale’s credit, he stayed close to her side when she stepped out of the car.  

 

At that point, the noise became deafening, flashes from cameras falling on all sides of her as Peeta watched Katniss become another person. The sometimes hard-headed, earnest, workaholic girl who cared more for her sister than herself became the personification of a rock-star.  Her smile brightened, and her walk changed as she took charge of the red carpet, pausing to pose for the cameras.  Journalists called out to her to take off her cape and show her outfit but with a coquettish twitch of her forefinger, she shook her head and said only, “It’s for paying customers only.” The moans of disappointment mingling with laughs made Peeta’s skin crawl.  

 

To Peeta’s chagrin, Katniss next broke away to the rope cordoning off fans to sign autographs and take selfies with as many people as the time allowed. Peeta gave Effie a look that essentially said, “Move her or I will,” which prodded Effie to shoo her up the walk.  Peeta kept a sharp eye, pressing fans who got too close out of the way as she navigated the cramped strip, screaming crowds, and blinding flashes to reach the entrance of the club. When she entered, she was led by the club owner, Seneca Crane, to a dressing area in the back. Peeta assigned Gale to guard the door as he entered the room with Effie and Haymitch.

 

Once inside, Katniss lowered the hood of her cape and turned to Peeta.  “I know you aren’t very enthusiastic about my being here…”

 

“I’m not…” Peeta interjected, but she went on as if he hadn’t spoken.

 

“But just like you have a job to do, so do I. Those fans are the reason I am here and I have to interact with them,” she said firmly.  Peeta scowled, but Katniss repeated, “Let me do my job.” She said this as she reached out to admire the dozen white roses sitting on her dresser.

 

Haymitch turned to give Peeta a sympathetic look before he asked,  “Who are those from?”

 

“I don’t know but they’re gorgeous,” Katniss said breathlessly, the coy, sweet smell having now suffused the entire room.  

 

“They look very expensive,” Effie said with approval, leaning in to smell the blooms.

 

Katniss opened the envelope to read the message inside.  Peeta made his way to the door to double check security arrangements but froze at Katniss’ sharp intake of breath.  He turned just in time to see her stumble backwards away from the vanity, dropping the note as if it were laced in acid.

 

“Oh, my god!  Peeta!” she cried out. The use of his first name and the panic in her voice moved him to action. He caught her just as she tripped on her cloak while Haymitch reached for the letter.

 

“Don’t touch it!” Peeta ordered Haymitch in a voice that was far calmer than the way he felt.  Katniss, meanwhile, trembled in fear, staring at the paper with naked terror.

 

“How...how did he get in here?” Katniss gasped, her breathing coming in pants that reminded Peeta of the panic attacks he used to experience when he first returned from duty.

 

“Breathe,” he whispered, grasping her hand, leading her to another chair to sit down.

 

“This concert has been heavily advertised.  It’s no wonder that this person knew where to find you,” Effie said, fanning herself as if the letter had been directed at her. “I think I’m going to be ill.”

 

“Well, don’t puke here!” Haymitch spat as Peeta searched the closets and small spaces that might fit a person before returning to kneel before Katniss.

 

“The room’s clear. This was a bad decision. I have to insist that you cancel this performance,” Peeta demanded.

 

“No!” Katniss exclaimed.  “I’m not letting some psycho fucker keep me from performing.”  Peeta threw up his hands in frustration.

 

“Katniss, he could still be here!  The stage is an open layout!  No one in their right mind would go out there and expose themselves after that,” he said angrily.  He watched her ball her hands into fists, pressing her lips together into a thin line of determination.

 

“I’m not running away with my tail between my legs. Fuck him and fuck his letters! Haymitch!” She turned to her worried manager. “How long till we go live?”

 

“Five minutes.  Look, sweetheart, I have to agree with Peeta…”

 

“Peeta will do what I ask him to do.  I don’t want to hear another word about it,” she huffed. “Effie, will you help me touch up my makeup?”

 

“Of course, darling,” Effie answered but her voice shook, and she no longer had the conviction of only an hour ago.

 

“Fine!” Peeta said as he pulled out the plastic bag Darius gave him, together with a pair of tweezers, noticing for the first time that his hands were unsteady.   _Goddammit, this woman would be the end of him!_  He proceeded to pick the letter up and stow it safely in the bag.  “I hope you’re not going to make a habit of this.”

 

Katniss whirled around and pinned him with a deadly look. “A habit of what?  Of performing?  Of dealing with the public?  You have some fucking nerve.  This _habit_ pays all our bills.  Haymitch?” She stood up suddenly, much to Effie’s chagrin, who was not quite finished applying the finishing powder. “We should be on now. Lead me out, please. I can’t deal with Mr. Fantastic right now.”

 

Haymitch opened the door for her, leading her through the crowd of VIP patrons who’d paid to have backstage access.  Peeta stared at the words on the note:

 

_I told you I was watching you. When I am ready, I will come for you and take everything away from you, the way you’ve taken everything from me._

 

As he read the message over and over again, Effie placed a hand on Peeta’s arm. “Don’t take it to heart. She doesn’t manage well under stress, and this particular situation has been a strain on her.”  She gave him a small smile and squeezed him reassuringly before letting her manicured fingers fall lightly to her side.

 

Peeta nodded as Effie turned to leave.  Folding the plastic bag with the letter inside, he breathed deeply, remembering his responsibilities.  He’d overreacted - something he never did on the job and now he probably owed Katniss an apology.  He had no excuse for his lack of professionalism, but when he saw her panicked face, the terror that caused her to tremble, something had snapped inside of him, provoking his rage. Not having a suitable outlet, he took it out on the person least responsible for the circumstances she now found herself in.  It was remorse that plagued him now as he composed himself. He tried not to think too much about it as he stepped out into the corridor, determined that he would do his job with more emotional detachment from here on out.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta communicated the events to his team, encouraging them to keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior. That was going to be difficult, given the mayhem in the club. He arrived to find Katniss just stepping on stage, urging the crowd on, while Peeta made his way to the spot he’d chosen in the crowd, determined to stay as close to her as possible.  There was a ring of security around the stage, but they were spaced out and far too few for Peeta’s liking. The music began pumping, doing nothing to calm his nerves.  Katniss’ voice rang out across the dance floor.

 

“I’m so happy to be here tonight!  This is my last performance before I head out for the _Girl on Fire_ Tour.  So let me hear you get loud!!”

 

The crowd did get loud, calling her name, surging forward as if one entity to reach her.  Katniss unhooked her cape and let it fall.  Peeta was stunned by her outfit - thigh-high boots, a black and silver outfit that looked like it was made of meteor dust, with tiny shorts cut high above her thighs. Her midriff was exposed and for the first time, Peeta realized how athletic she really was - defined muscles on her gloved arms, her abdominals shifting beneath her glowing skin. Her legs were toned and firm from her constant exercise and rehearsals.  Her hair, almost always in a braid, was long and lose and together with the dark makeup, made her look like vengeance itself.  Despite the unease of seeing her so exposed, Peeta couldn’t help but admire the beautiful way she was put together.

 

Smoke filled the stage around her as the lights danced. He signaled Gale, who was far too relaxed and barely paying attention to Katniss, much less Peeta.  He tapped the small button that activated the radio.

 

“Gale, cover the side of the stage behind her. I can’t see anything with this smoke.”

 

Gale’s chuckle came over the ear piece. “Aww, first time at a concert?  Relax, cowboy. She’s got this covered.”

 

Peeta seethed as the first bars of the song Katniss rehearsed earlier came across the speakers.  “I didn’t ask you whether she’s got this or not. I asked you to cover the bar side…” but he was cut off as a young man jumped on the stage with Katniss.  Peeta hopped onto the stage with two other guards but she put her hand out, shaking her head.  She continued to dance and sing, and it was all he could do to not rip the man off of her.

 

Apparently, the crowding of the stage by three other fans was enough to motivate Gale to move and press them back down again.  Peeta searched frantically for anything that might give an indication of who the sender of the roses was, but there was nothing but the grinding percussion and the roar of people singing along or simply screaming with excitement. Katniss seemed to feed off of the energy, becoming more in her element with each wave of adoration the crowd gave her.

 

But Peeta understood the power of crowds, of people filled with mindless, drunken energy. He called Thresh and double-checked that he was at the pickup point. With the unfailing instincts that had made him such a success, he turned to face the burbling ocean of human bodies and could feel the moment everything fell apart. There was a sudden rush for the stage, the manic crowds overwhelming the handful of guards that stood at the foot of the raised platform. Soon Katniss was in the air, screaming as the crowds tore at her, too delirious in their revel to realize the terror they were causing their idol.  Peeta tackled bodies, stomping arms and legs as he managed to reach her and pull her, still screaming, into his arms.  Gale, who had seen the rush, pushed his way through the crowds in order to reach them, but Peeta already had his trajectory mapped out in mind. He kicked and shoved people out of the way as he barrelled towards the back exit, Katniss’ head buried all the while in his neck.  

 

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, fighting through an almost impenetrable human wall, Peeta burst out into the night with Katniss folded tightly in his arms. Opening the car door, he carried Katniss inside and instructed Thresh to take off.  Everyone else had been abandoned but he couldn’t worry about them. He had only one concern and she sat shivering on the seat near him.  

 

“Here,” he whispered, removing his suit jacket and covering her with it.  His hand ran involuntarily over her hair but he stopped, appalled by his actions and pulled away to sit on the opposite seat of the limousine. He faced forward, tapping the glass between him and Thresh.  

 

“Take the turnpike home,” he said. “It’s a little longer but it will confuse anyone who’s trying to track us.”

 

“Sure thing, Peeta,” he said.

 

Turning his attention back to Katniss, he found her staring disconsolately at her hands.  A small sniffle clued him in that she was crying but if he had learned anything about her, he knew she was proud and wouldn’t want to be called out on her tears.  So instead, he stared out the window, watching the twinkling lights of Panem City speed by as the car took to the highway.  He was lulled by the gentle movements of the car so he almost didn’t hear Katniss when she spoke.

 

“I’m sorry,” came the words, uttered as if it had cost her her last breath to say them.

 

“Excuse me?” he said, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

 

She took a deep breath as if it exasperated her to have to drag the words out twice in a row.  “I said, I’m sorry,” she scowled. “I’m not good at all this touchy-feely stuff, okay?”

 

Peeta shook his head and smiled at her, moving to sit next to her again. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been so overbearing tonight,” he said, the words catching somewhere in his throat.  Apologies didn’t come easy to him either.

 

“No, Peeta, you were right.  I shouldn’t have accepted this gig. I should have taken your concerns more seriously.  I...” She looked up at him, her make-up smudged from the exertion of singing and escaping, together with tracks made by her tears.  There were tiny scratches on her neck and arms from the fans clawing at her. “I’ll do what you ask from now on. As long as we can get this guy to stop.”  Peeta almost smiled, guessing her acquiescence to his requests wouldn’t go quite as smoothly when she was calmer, but he was grateful she seemed willing to at least listen to him.  It only made him more determined to catch the bastard who kept pursuing her.

 

“We’ll find him.  It’s my biggest priority, together with keeping you safe, Ms. Everdeen,” he said resolutely.

 

Katniss gave a small, sheepish smile.  “ _Katniss_. Just call me Katniss already.”

 

Peeta stared at her, suddenly feeling shy for the first time in a long while.  “Okay, Katniss.  There.  Are you happy now?”

 

Katniss’ smiled brightened, enlivening her face until he felt himself falter beneath its brilliance, all humor having been replaced by something so primal, he had to force the impulse away from him. “Yes. I’m happy now. Very happy.”

 

When the car pulled through the gate, Peeta could tell that Katniss was wiped out by the way she swayed with exhaustion.  He admired the way she was struggling to keep herself together, stoically trying not to cry again.  When she stumbled, he wordlessly scooped her up in his arms and carried her all the way inside, up the wide stairs, directly to her bedroom.  Katniss didn’t say a word as he helped her remove her boots and took his jacket from her.  She slipped under the covers without undressing, her lids half-closed by the time Peeta pulled the covers up over her.

 

Peeta sat down at the edge of the mattress, brushing away a wayward lock of hair from her forehead.  He struggled, thinking he should get back, ask about the new letter, track down everyone who’d been left behind at the Hob and debrief his team.  Instead, he glanced down at Katniss’ tear-stained face, the smudges of mascara and costume makeup smearing the crisp, white bedsheets.  Without a word, he stood, searching the room until he found the giant, lavish bathroom.  He returned with a warm, wet cloth and gently removed the thick makeup, taking care to be extra gentle around her eyes.  Katniss froze and for a moment, he almost did too.  But after a beat, she tilted her chin upwards, wordlessly imploring him to continue, and he did - it was beyond his control to stop, for the makeup was surely uncomfortable and he couldn’t bear the paint obscuring her face.  

 

When he was done, he pulled away, but she stayed him with a hand on his sleeve. “Peeta...I…” She paused, and he had never seen such naked vulnerability in her face before.  “Would you...would you stay?  Until I fall asleep?  I don’t want to be alone,” she admitted quietly.  

 

Peeta’s heart thudded in his chest, so loudly, he thought she’d surely be able to hear it beating. “Okay,” he acquiesced, watching her eyes flutter closed, the lines of worry smoothing away, causing her face to lose it’s careworn appearance as she slipped into a deeper slumber.  He couldn’t have left her if he’d tried.  He remembered telling Darius that a bodyguard’s job was to give the client what they needed, but Peeta was almost positive that, if Katniss had asked him for the moon, he would have found a way to bring it for her. And suddenly, his job became infinitely more complicated.

 

**XXXXX**

 

After he was sure Katniss had finally fallen to sleep, he returned to the guest cottage.  Reclining in his bed, he replayed in his mind the moment she’d asked him to stay until he drifted off to sleep. That night, for the first time in eight years, Peeta didn’t dream of Finnick.  Instead, he dreamed of a girl running through the woods, a bow in hand and a sheath of arrows slung over her slender shoulder.  Her hair was dark and loose, and she laughed as she looked back at him, her grey eyes twinkling in mischief. She waved her hand, urging him to move faster.  “Elephants stomp more quietly than you do!” she teased.  He ran after her, wanting nothing more than to reach out and capture her, to hold her close to him and be subsumed by the smell of her shampoo, the warmth of her sun-heated skin.

 

But there was something hunting her. A faceless monster following the scent of blood. Her blood.  Peeta raced through the underbrush, following the magnetic pull of her laughter, which turned quickly to blood-curdling screams.  

 

“Katniss!  Katniss!” he cried out, his stoic professionalism crumbling around his desperation to reach her.  There were tears now, tears of frustration because he could just barely see her.  He sensed her proximity, but he couldn’t reach her, no matter how hard he pushed himself.  Her terror filled screams filled the air, but he always fell short.

 

Peeta woke with a start, a terrible longing mixed with fear and terror coursing through his body.  He touched his face and it was, indeed, wet.  He lay back down, flinging an arm over his eyes. _How had he gotten to this point?_ He hadn’t dreamed of Finnick, but he wasn’t sure if this dream was any better.  In fact, it felt worse.  What he did know is that it was the most dangerous dream he had ever had.

 


	5. Part 4

**_I gotta watch you walk in the room baby_ **

**_I gotta watch you walk out_ **

**_I like the animal way you move_ **

**_And when you talk_ **

**_I just watch your mouth_ **

 

**_Oh I remember the way that we touch_ **

**_I wish I didn't like it so much_ **

 

**_-from_ ** **“So Emotional” _by Whitney Houston_**

 

**Katniss**

 

Katniss woke the next morning with a pain in her head that was almost as bad as a migraine.  Her body felt as if it had been bludgeoned with a hammer as she pushed the blankets off of her. She moaned loudly, hoping that a stiff cup of coffee would help relieve her of her lethargy.  She washed up and changed into her favorite boy shorts and tank top, padding carefully on sock-covered feet down to the kitchen. To her relief, the smell of coffee already lingered in the air.  There drifted also the muffled sounds of voices speaking quietly. Katniss’ stomach gave an involuntary leap when she recognized one as that of Peeta and paused to listen to the cadence of his smooth, mellow voice in deep discussion with Haymitch.

 

“There’s something different about this letter,” she overheard Peeta say.

 

The slight crinkle of plastic followed, and she recalled that he’d placed the letter inside of a baggie last night. There was a pause as Haymitch most likely took the letter and read it again.  She snuck carefully around the corner to see Haymitch rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Seems more personal, doesn’t it?”  he concluded.

 

Peeta smiled in approval at Haymitch, and Katniss took the opportunity to luxuriate in the way his eyes twinkled when he allowed himself to show pleasure.  She wondered what other expressions his face could take on when he wasn’t being serious and ultra-professional.

 

But that veneer had fallen last night and it was Katniss’ turn to smile with a certain self-satisfaction. She remembered his naked fear when she’d reacted to the letter, his hand lingering in her hair in the limousine last night. He wasn’t the hard-ass he made himself out to be.  There was a soft heart underneath his armor, and Katniss desired to see it again.

 

“Exactly. This letter implies that Katniss and the stalker have had contact before.   _I will come for you and take everything away from you, the way you’ve taken everything from me._ The little shit fucked up,” Peeta said with barely repressed excitement.  “You have to help me talk her into getting the police involved in this.”

 

“She’s not going to go for it,” Haymitch said gloomily.  “Prim doesn’t even know about this.”

 

“I don’t see what the police can do,” Katniss said.  Both men jumped in surprise.  “According to you, there aren’t even any fingerprints to go by.” She made her way to the coffee pot, pretending to ignore the Peeta’s eyes as they flickered over her body.  “Plus, I’m setting off on a tour within the month. I don’t have time to run after the police.”  Peeta’s eyes flashed with irritation, as they always did when this subject came up

 

“You have to realize that if you know your stalker, it makes you even more vulnerable,” Peeta explained.  “As long as this guy was just an obsessed wierdo, jacking off to a picture of you in a tabloid, it was just a nuisance. But if this is revenge and the person knows you, he has an advantage that could make him lethal.”  

 

Katniss contemplated his words.  They made sense, but her reluctance for more publicity reared its head again. “But I don’t know anyone who would hate me so much as to want to hurt me,” she said as she rubbed her temples.

 

“Well, according to this note, he knows you, so we probably have to take this seriously,” Haymitch said.  Katniss considered him for a moment. He was taciturn, often smelled of alcohol, and sometimes had questionable hygiene when not in a public venue. But he was dedicated to Katniss the way an uncle coddles a troublesome child, with an aloof kind of affection against his better judgement. He was also as sharp as a tack and if he thought this was credible, it might be time to take it more seriously.

 

Peeta showed her the letter. “This guy hates you enough to threaten you,” he said gently. “You promised me you would do what I asked.”

 

Katniss pressed her lips together, pain lancing through her head as she pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead.  “I did, didn’t I?  God, my head’s about to explode!”

 

To her amazement, Peeta took her hand and pressed firmly on the meaty part between her thumb and forefinger. With tight, circular motions, he massaged the spot over and over until slowly, the pain in her head began to subside.

 

“It’s an acupuncture trick,” Peeta said by way of explanation, his cheeks flushing slightly. “There are pressure points over your temples, the base of your neck, even your feet.” He spoke with the authority of a school teacher, and she realized he could probably say anything to her in that way and she would take him at his word. “When you apply pressure here...” He squeezed her hand to indicate the spot in question. “It will release the tension in your head.   Feel better?”

 

“I do, thank you.” She pulled her hand away self-consciously, blushing, while Haymitch watched with some amusement. Katniss scowled at him as she cradled the large mug in both hands.  “Let me at least talk to Prim about it. I don’t want her finding out from the seven o’clock news.  We can head out there and be back before the photoshoot this afternoon.”

 

“She doesn’t have classes until tonight,” Peeta said.

 

“And how would you know that?” Haymitch asked in shock.

 

Peeta chuckled. “Katniss asked me to make sure she was safe, and I did. I know where she is at any given time; I know her schedule. I can even tell you that she went out for breakfast last Saturday.  For that matter, I know how much she spent on groceries and even what she bought.”  He turned towards Katniss while Haymitch whistled in disbelief.  “I told you I would keep an eye on her.”

 

“That’s a really close eye!” Katniss said incredulously.

 

“Is she important to you?” Peeta asked, training his deep, blue eyes on her, befuddling her thinking, making her wonder if he did it on purpose, to disarm her completely.

 

Katniss stared at him in opened-mouth disbelief. “You know she is!”

 

“Then she’s important to me too,” he said with so much sincerity, Katniss lost her humor, suffused with a powerful sense of gratitude and another feeling she did not want to acknowledge in present company.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Alone in the car, the drive was somewhat tense between Katniss and Peeta, the events of the night before hanging heavily between them. She had agreed to do as he said with respect to her safety - she had no choice, and despite the sometimes onerous procedures he’d put in place, she felt safe for the first time in a very long time.  She had an almost childish faith that if Peeta was nearby, she would be virtually invincible. But something had shifted - she recalled his hands on her, the pull of her hair through his fingers, the tender way he’d wiped the make-up from her face.  It was new and different, and she didn’t know how to put that into words.

 

As they pulled into Prim’s community, Katniss took a glance around, admiring the manicured lawns of the upscale neighborhood where Katniss had bought the house her sister now lived in. It was close to the university and most of the residents were university staff or professors.  Peeta directed her attention to a small van down the block as Thresh parked their car.  

 

“You see that?” he asked.

 

Katniss studied the non-descript vehicle that looked like a cable repair truck.  “Yes?” she answered, not understanding why it was so important for her to see that.

 

“Those are her guys. They keep an eye on her and report back any suspicious activity.  I could bug the house, if you like,” Peeta said with a quirk of his lips.  

 

Katniss stared at him, aghast that he would suggest it. “Don’t you dare!  I don’t want anyone snooping in on her life. I want her safe, but I don’t want her privacy invaded. Please.”

 

“I was kidding,” Peeta chuckled. “That’s completely illegal and as much as I appreciate your wanting to keep her safe, she’s an adult and entitled to her life.” His smile lingered as he checked his phone, the LCD screen illuminating his chiseled features. Katniss was fascinated by his eyelashes, which were so fair that in the right light, they disappeared. Except now. They sparkled and framed his deep blue eyes like stardust.

 

“I like it when you smile,” Katniss blurted out without warning, shocking both Peeta and herself. She wanted to clap her hand over her mouth, all the more so when he looked up, his eyes wide in surprise but decided to bluff her way through her embarrassment.  “I mean, you’re always so grumpy. It’s nice to see you a little more relaxed.”  Peeta gave her a small smile that somehow still managed to make Katniss’ heart flutter.

 

“I have my moments,” he said smoothly, though judging from the slight flush of his cheeks, he was by no means completely composed.  The car stopped, and Peeta hurried to open the door for Katniss, who donned a sprawling sunhat and a pair of sunglasses, grateful that they were large enough to cover her flaming cheeks.  She walked quickly to the front door and rang the bell.  Peeta stood behind her, his demeanor serious and no nonsense again as he scanned the environment.  

 

“Katniss!” Prim exclaimed, practically leaping into her older sister’s arms.  “How awesome! Come on in!”  She looked at Peeta curiously, her eyes darting between him and Katniss.  “Who’s this?”  Katniss’ face flamed again.

 

“I...he’s my bodyguard.  Peeta Mellark, this is my sister, Prim.  He’s been with us a little over a month, ever since Boggs went on leave to be with his family.”

 

“I heard!  Wow, so nice to meet you!” Prim said extending her hand to Peeta. Katniss watched as he greeted her, his features softening at the sight of the tall, sweet, girl with long, blond hair and eyes as light as Katniss’ but with a deeper hint of blue than her sister’s. Prim could charm anyone, and Katniss was not surprised that Peeta responded to her also.

 

“Come on in!” Prim exclaimed.  Peeta surveyed the room, appearing to take in every detail as if he were scanning or photocopying it in his mind. His cool appraisal calmed Katniss’ nerves, making her almost forget the acute mortification of her careless words in the car.

 

“Do you guys want something to drink?  I was making tea.” Prim bounced into the kitchen, pulling two mugs from the cupboard.  On the stove, a kettle was already boiling. “I made more than enough water for all of us.”

 

“That’s great.” Katniss sat down at the kitchen island, forgoing formality.  The house was somewhat formal and even a bit large for a single graduate student. But it was what Prim wanted.  Katniss had been happy she could preserve Prim’s independence without her being in the middle of frat parties and other typical on-campus debaucheries.

 

“Peeta?” Prim said, as if testing his name.  “Would you like some tea also?”  Peeta looked almost surprised to be addressed, as if he wasn’t used to the family members of his employers paying him any attention.

 

“Oh, I should probably keep an eye on…” Prim stopped him with a wave of her hand.

 

“Don’t be silly! Sit here,” she smiled, pulling out a chair for him. He appeared to be somewhat confused.

 

“But I should check on the …”

 

“Peeta,” Katniss interjected. “I need you for part of the conversation at least. You know what happened so much better than anyone else.” Katniss wanted to mention that there was a vanload of super agents outside, but she didn’t want to clue her sister into the surveillance.  “Sit.  Boggs never had a problem sitting with us to have a cup of coffee or tea.”  Peeta eyed the seat Prim was indicating warily, clearly conflicted.  

 

Katniss had noticed that the methodical way he performed his job extended to other aspects of his life, from the way he put on his coat to the few times she’ seen him eat - starting at the top of his plate and moving in counterclockwise order, no foods touching, meat always last.  He didn’t like surprises or anything else that smacked of a lack of control.  She could appreciate this, as she was also the sort to not want to relinquish control to others. However, she was starting to think that Peeta Mellark had deeper issues with this than the average control freak.  

 

Finally, after a moment, she grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the chair, whispering in his ear while Prim prepared an extra mug. “Relax. I’m the one being stalked, not you.”

 

“That’s not funny,” he hissed as Prim set down the tray with the warm cups and cookies.

 

“You’re lucky I’m home. I usually have classes every morning except Fridays,” Prim said as she sat down, sipping the aromatic green tea.

 

Katniss quirked her eyebrow at Peeta, who maintained a perfect poker face as he sampled one of the cookies.

 

“This is really good,” he said in surprise as he savored the flavor of a lightly frosted cookie.  “Are these homemade?” he asked.

 

Prim blushed to the roots of her hair. “Actually, I made them this morning. Baking relaxes me.”

 

“I taste anise, cinnamon, ginger…” He sniffed the cookie, his nose twitching as he tried to determine the last bit of flavor.  “Pumpkin!” he said triumphantly.

 

Prim clapped her hands, her small, dimpled face brightening with pleasure. “Wow!  You’re good!  They’re pumpkin spice cookies with vanilla frosting.”  Peeta nodded eagerly, his professional demeanor giving way to one of boyish delight.  Katniss was both stunned and thrilled by the change.

 

“My parents own a bakery so I grew up surrounded by bread and cookies,” Peeta said as he took another one. “I love spice cookies.”

 

Katniss looked at him in askance. “I didn’t know that at all.”

 

Peeta gave her a sidelong glance, his eyes twinkling mischievously.  “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

 

“Ah. Well maybe you should tell us more about it,” Katniss countered, to which Peeta’s face colored slightly in response.  She caught Prim watching her and Peeta with a small smile dancing on her lips and knew that, if they were alone, her sister would be teasing her. Katniss cleared her throat and decided to get to the point of their visit.

 

“I have a little situation I’ve been dealing with,” Katniss began, all trace of humor gone.  She proceeded to explain to her sister everything that had been happening to her over the course of the last three months - the letters that had been sent to her, the home invasion, the gym, the latest delivery of flowers, and the escalation of threats against her. Prim asked for clarification and Peeta filled in the blanks on anything Katniss did not know.

 

Prim’s face became paler and paler until finally, she blurted out, “Have you called the police?”

 

Peeta, who had been listening to the entire exchange, muttered, “Don’t even ask that.”  

 

“I haven’t, but I will…” Katniss started but was interrupted by her sister, who fixed Katniss with an icy glare.

 

“How dare you?” she said coldly.

 

“What?” Katniss answered.

 

“How dare you put yourself in unnecessary danger for...publicity?  Is that where you’re at in your mind?” Prim stood up and suddenly, the sweet, docile girl of only a few minutes ago blazed with a temper that reminded Katniss of herself.

 

“I didn’t put myself…”

 

“It’s the first thing you should have done! How could you be so irresponsible with yourself?  With me?”

 

“No!” Katniss said, standing also. She caught Peeta looking around, appearing unsure what he should do, and casting a furtive glance at the door as if that was ultimately where safety lay.  “I didn’t tell you, but you have bodyguards too. You just don’t know…”

 

“Oh, please, Katniss!  You don’t think I didn’t notice the same stupid van or car parked outside my house every day?” Prim fumed derisively.  “I’m not talking about me!  How do you think I’d feel if something happened to you, just because you were too pigheaded to take basic precautions?”

 

“I took precautions!  I’ve always had security!  I didn’t know that someone had broken into the house until after the fact!” Katniss shouted heatedly.

 

“You think you’re so clever, so invincible, don’t you?!  Nothing’s going to happen to you because you’re this big rock star. Meanwhile, if you get hurt, where the hell does that leave me?” It was then that Prim began to cry, not for fear or grief, but like her older sister, she cried because she was furious. She had no other way of relieving those powerful emotions except through tears.  Katniss leaped forward to take her sister into her arms.

 

“No, don’t cry, Little Duck,” Katniss said, all but forgetting everything in the face of her sister’s displeasure. “I’m going to take care of that, I promise.”

 

“First Dad, then Mom, and now I have to be afraid for you too?” Prim sobbed, eliciting tears from Katniss as she held the younger girl tighter.

 

“I’m not going anywhere!   Peeta!” She looked around for him, not having noticed that he had long since slipped quietly out the front door. “He’s really beefed everything up. He added a fence, more guards, everything.” She lifted her sister’s face, which had fallen onto Katniss’ shoulder.  “He...he takes care of things.  I’m really safe; I promise. I just need to know that you’ll take extra care of yourself,” Katniss concluded. By this time, they were both shaking, and they clasped each other’s hands, holding onto each other until they both stilled.

 

They remained in that attitude for a long moment, both calming the other with their caresses and soothing presence. How many times had they had to be strong for each other, to help each other get through the terror of being abandoned by the adults who had sworn to care for them?  Katniss knew she could survive anything as long as her sister was safe and sound and deep down inside, she knew it was the same for Prim.

 

“I’m going to the police as soon as possible.  I promise.  I’ll leave the security arrangement that Peeta’s put in place for now, unless something comes up.”

 

“Like the beast gets caught?” Prim quipped, but her eyes were quite serious.  Katniss bobbed her head in agreement.  No one wanted that man or woman behind bars more than Katniss.  

 

“I sent you the tour schedule. You should consider traveling with me when you’re off this summer,” Katniss said by way of appeasement.

 

“I might. You’ll be taking Peeta, right?” Prim asked.

 

“Of course!  He’s my head of security now,” Katniss said, glancing at the watch for the time.

 

“He seems...really nice. I like him,” Prim said, leading her sister to the door.

 

Katniss dropped her eyes, unable to hold her sister’s gaze.  “He _is_ nice.  I didn’t think so in the beginning but he...well...he grows on you,” she said sheepishly.

 

“Oh, I bet,” Prim said, her air of carefree youth pushing away the tears and anguish of earlier.  “You seem to be growing on him too,” she said at length.

 

Katniss smiled, giving her sister a kiss on the cheek.  “Well, I am the most famous woman in the world right now, so that’s no surprise.”

 

Prim stopped her at the door before opening it.  “I have a feeling you’d grow on him even if you weren’t _Katniss Everdeen_.” She affected a voice that sounded very much like the famous celebrity interviewer, Caesar Flickerman, “ _The Girl of Fire!_ ”

 

They both dissolved into peals of laughter as they opened the door to find a surprised Peeta on the other side.

 

“Come by before I leave. My schedule is getting crazier and crazier as we get closer to leaving, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to break away again,” Katniss said.

 

Prim nodded. “I will. I promise.” She turned to Peeta, offering her hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you.  Keep my sister safe, okay?” she asked with a bright smile, though her eyes still bore the traces of her shed tears.

 

“You have my word,” Peeta answered, then took his leave, leading Katniss carefully across the sidewalk to the car that awaited.  They said very little as they returned home, Katniss lost in thought over her sister, her stalker, and the man who had sworn to protect her.

 

**XXXXX**

 

The photoshoot was tedious, as it featured several of her dancers, including Madge and Johanna and coordinating pictures with so many people was onerous and time consuming.  Katniss had a hard time dragging up her celebrity persona, longing with all her might to be able to get out of the house, out of her head, and do something enjoyable. The stress of the previous night, combined with the emotionally daunting morning she’d spent with her sister, conspired to drain her energy, and she counted the minutes until the shoot would finally be over.  There were dress changes, makeup touch-ups, and dozens of stylists hovering like bees around Katniss until she had to physically repress the urge to swat them away.  Her dancers were enjoying the attention, which pleased her, but Katniss would rather have been on the sofa, watching mindless television than prancing around like a show horse.

 

At one point, while she was resting her feet, Katniss watched Gale stumble in from the veranda, holding a towel over his nose.  Soon after, Peeta followed, flushed but otherwise calm and unflappable, holding his right hand in his left.

 

“What happened?” Katniss exclaimed but both men simply waved her away, making their way to the guest bathrooms, presumably to treat their injuries.  

 

“Your bodyguard just beat the tar out of Gale,” Johanna said in a tone bordering on gleeful as she found a seat next to Katniss.  “I don’t know what happened last night but apparently, Peeta warned him that if it happened again, he’d be sure to pop every single one of his joints out of place.” She laughed, clearly enjoying the shock on Katniss’ face.

 

“How is that funny?” Katniss demanded, getting up out of her chair to find Peeta. Moving over the snaking cords and photographic equipment, through the maze of corridors and rooms leading to the guest bathroom, Katniss found him wrapping his hand in a gauze bandage.

 

“Why are you and Gale fighting?” Katniss spat, her body bristling with anger, the frustration and stress of the last few days boiling to the surface.

 

“That’s between us,” he said succinctly.

 

“The two of you are probably dripping blood all over my house so that makes it my business!”

 

Peeta turned towards her, his own patience clearly wearing thin.  “Gale didn’t do as I asked yesterday. I told him if he ever did anything to put you in danger again, I was going to put him under.”  He turned back to tend to his hand. “We have an understanding now.”

 

“Oh do you?” Katniss said, appalled that he’d taken on his ultra-cool persona again. “Well I don’t want my employees fighting each other under my roof. If you have to discipline one of your guys, figure out a way to do it that doesn’t include blood shed.”

 

Peeta turned his attention back to her with a smirk, which made him look like a cat who had caught a mouse. “Everyone is different, Katniss. Some people respond to tears.” He indicated to her, and she remembered her conversation with her sister earlier.  “Some people respond to reason,” he indicated towards himself.

 

“Pft, sure!” Katniss scoffed, though she couldn’t help but smile at him.

 

“And some people only understand things when a boot is shoved up their asses. That would be your friend, Gale.” He smiled at the last pronouncement.

 

Katniss shook her head at him.  “You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” he said simply.

 

She stared at him for a moment longer, just noting the pink bruise that was beginning to swell on his cheek.  She reached up, her fingers barely brushing over the cheekbone, the skin hot to the touch. “You seem to take as good as you give.”

 

Peeta’s eyes became smoky, his eyes virtually fluttering closed as he lifted his own to cover hers. “I told you,” he whispered. “I have my moments.”

 

Katniss felt the blood rush to her ears, her heart speeding up wildly in her chest. _How long? How long ago had it been since she felt her body come alive at a man’s touch?_  His eyes held hers, speaking to her, as if trying to deliver a message his lips could not form. She risked being unable to think any longer as he lowered her hand from his face, holding it suspended between them before releasing it.

 

“I guess I need ice for that too,” Peeta said at length, stepping around Katniss and making his way to the kitchen.  Katniss woke from her stupor, feeling slightly hungover from the moment and went to seek out Gale and make sure he was alright.

 

**XXXXX**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Part 5

**Part 5**

 

**_Over and over I look in your eyes_ **

**_You are all I desire_ **

**_You have captured me_ **

**_I want to hold you_ **

**_I want to be close to you_ **

**_I never want to let go_ **

 

**_-from Could I Have This Kiss Forever_ ** **by Whitney Houston and Enrique Iglesias**

 

**Katniss**

 

Panem City Detectives Thom O'Malley and Delly Cartwright had agreed, as a courtesy, to receive Katniss’ complaint in her home. The peculiar situation of her celebrity might have reduced the precinct office to chaos had she appeared in their midst, entourage in tow. This was Panem City after all, and police were unfortunately accustomed to dealing with the unique situations of celebrities and their strange lives.

 

Haymitch handed over the manila folder, which was fatter than ever, having received two more threats since the flowers at the nightclub. Peeta gave his statement, together with a fidgety Effie, who had been sure she’d never in her life have to deal with something as common as local police until today.  The two officers took notes and returned the file, politely completing the paperwork.  

 

When the formalities had been attended to, Detective O'Malley set aside the papers, considering his words thoughtfully before he spoke. He was a tall, slim man with perfectly styled black hair and eyes that were a much darker grey than Katniss’ own. His words were just slightly accented with a subtle lilt that sounded almost lyrical.

 

“Ms. Everdeen, I will say that I wish you had brought this to us sooner. There is evidence of escalation in this person’s communications towards you,” he said with concern.

 

“That was clear to us already,” Peeta said impatiently.

 

“Yes, well, that being said...” The detective eyed Peeta warily as he rubbed his hands, fidgeting with the ring on his left hand. “We often get reports of celebrity stalkings that are never followed up with actual contact by the perpetrators, if that is any comfort to you.”

 

“It would be more of a comfort to me if he hadn’t gotten inside of her house,” Peeta responded with barely repressed annoyance.  Katniss felt the tension radiating from Peeta and placed a hand on his knee, hoping to calm him down.  The whole process seemed to have taxed his patience, and he now scowled in irritation, not even reacting to her touch.  He appeared too focused on details of the report being filed.

 

“Yes, I agree. I am just advising you of our experience,” Thom said calmly.  “Now, I need you to generate a list of people you think might have a grudge against you. Have you had any bad break-ups lately?”

 

Katniss shook her head. “I don’t socialize very much and I haven’t dated anyone in a while.”

 

“Yes, she’s very driven by her work and it keeps her busy,” Effie noted.  

 

Detective Cartwright interjected gently, “Even old boyfriends with a grudge could be potential perpetrators. Most victims are stalked by men they’ve known in the past.”

 

“The only boyfriend I’ve ever broken things off with was in high school, and he even works for me now,” Katniss said.  Peeta gave her a sidelong look that he managed to conceal from the detectives but not from her.  “I know for a fact that he is not stalking me,” Katniss said angrily.  “I’ve dated casually over the years but all my relationships have just faded away. I’m very famous. It would stand to reason that I probably have some fan who is obsessed with me. Maybe you should look there first.”

 

“I was thinking more along the lines of ex-employees,” Peeta said abruptly.  “I created a list of employees who were let go over the last five years.  Haymitch helped me with the details. We included those who left on their own. A few were released because of violations of the non-disclosure clause.” Peeta handed the detectives his own list.  

 

Haymitch pointed to the columns on the spreadsheet. “The dates and circumstances of their dismissal or voluntary release are included.  There aren’t many, but it might be of more interest than Katniss’ romantic history, which is not as extensive as the tabloids would have you believe.”

 

Detective O’Malley nodded at this, a tuft of brown hair falling over his brow.  “We realize that.  It’s just statistics, Mr. Mellark.”

 

When they’d gathered other information that could be relevant to the case, Detective Cartwright asked to be shown the bedroom where the letter was found.  Peeta obliged her and led both detectives upstairs while Katniss curled up on the couch, nursing a glass of wine that Effie had poured for all of them.

 

“What is Peeta’s problem?” Katniss exclaimed in exasperation.  “He’s been insisting all this time that I call the police, and now he can barely speak to them without being rude.”

 

Haymitch shook his head at Katniss. “Sweetheart, you are one smart lady but sometimes, you are as clueless as a paperweight.”

 

“Oh, Haymitch, don’t insult the poor girl," Effie scolded him. "Katniss, dear, Peeta is worried about you, that’s all.” She sat down next to Katniss as she sipped daintily on her wine.  “I believe our fierce protector has developed something of a soft spot for you, darling.”

 

“Peeta?” Katniss said incredulously, her stomach lurching as she tried to suppress the thrill that spread throughout her body at Effie’s words.

 

“Well, he is the consummate professional,” Katniss said, involuntarily thinking of him staying with her the night of the club, the way his hand lingered in her hair in the limousine.  “He’s just doing his job.”

 

Haymitch chuckled, filling his shot glass with vodka and downing it with one gulp.  “Your guy wants to do more than just his job.”

 

“Haymitch!” Effie scolded, followed by a string of invectives while Katniss turned away from them, feigning irritation. But she couldn’t help the slow smile that spread across her face.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss threw herself into promoting her tour. As the date approached, she found her schedule packed with interviews, appearances, and rehearsals.  Effie had managed to book them for the Modern Museum of Art fundraising gala, an annual event that attracted everyone who was anyone in the entertainment industry, and the star performer would be none other than Katniss Everdeen.

 

Ever since Peeta had fought with Gale, much to her confusion, Peeta had been resolute in pretending that whatever connection he and Katniss experienced while he was tending his cuts had never happened.  He accompanied her to her various events, brushed away the unwanted attention of fans and journalists alike, and went beyond the limits of his duty to make her comfortable.

 

However, despite his indifference, it had slowly dawned on Katniss that the highlight of her days, besides singing, which was her great passion, was seeing him.  The stress of these last weeks before the tour started had been mitigated by the anticipation of spending another few moments with Peeta in the limousine, dressing room, backstage corridor - anywhere as long as he was nearby.

 

She didn’t discuss these feelings with anyone. She had no time anyway, running from one thing to the next.  And Katniss wasn’t very interested in spending time analyzing her state of mind with anyone anyway. It was a waste of time to her, for her feelings were what they were and action was what mattered.  

 

So, instead, she plowed through her schedule, maintaining with disciplined calm her detachment from everyone around her except her sister, focusing only on perfecting her performance.

 

But one day during rehearsals, Katniss’ cell phone lit up. Normally, she would let it ring and go to voicemail but the message on her screen indicated that the number was private. Curiously, she answered the phone.

 

“Hello?” she asked, toweling herself off after the exertion of the dance number.  She was disconcerted by the silence as she repeated herself.

 

“Hello? Anybody there?” she repeated.  The phone line went dead in mid-sentence.

 

Believing it to be a wrong number, Katniss went back to her rehearsals, giving no further thought to it until, a half-hour later, it rang again.  

 

“Hello?” she asked, a chill running through her as she was met with the same silence as before.  

 

Suddenly, a metallic sound came over the line followed by speech. Katniss could feel the blood drain from her face as she heard the words in a distorted, electronic voice.

 

“Katniss. I’m watching you,” the voice said.  Her hand began to shake, but she didn't hang up.  She hurried through the house, searching for Peeta, finally finding him in the security office in deep discussion with Gale over a schematic.

 

“Who is this?” Katniss said into the phone, then shoving it into his hand.

 

Peeta listened intently, his face turning to stone as the individual spoke. He gave the phone back to Katniss and whispered, “Talk to him.”  He then looked at his watch and scribbled down the time and a few lines of script on a tablet. He passed the note to Gale. "Call O'Malley or Cartwright.”

 

“Uh...what do you want from me?” Katniss continued with a shaky voice, her fear increasing with every word spoken.

 

"Revenge. I want to see your obituary in the newspaper.  I want to see you bleed for ruining my life," came the metallic response.

 

Katniss looked helplessly at Peeta, who silently urged her on. _Talk to him_ , he mouthed, checking his watch again.

 

"Tell me what I've done to make you so angry," Katniss continued. "Maybe I can do something to fix it."  She reached out to steady herself and found Peeta’s hand grasping her own.  She looked at him and her fear reflected in his eyes, but there was a fierce, protective rage there as well.  It spurred her to keep listening, despite the horrific things being said.

 

“What can I do to fix it?” she repeated.

 

"Nothing. The only you can do is die," the voice said eerily. Katniss felt everything at once - terror, anger, indignation -and tried not to blurt out the string of obscenities that sat on the tip of her tongue.  

 

"I've been on the phone too long.  We'll talk again." The last word was clipped by the disconnection of the phone line.

 

"Goddammit all!" Peeta swore as he saw Katniss lower the phone, letting go of her hand.  Katniss missed his touch immediately.  "The police may still be able to trace it."

 

"How? It was a private line," Katniss said breathlessly as Gale returned.

 

"They’re on their way." Gale turned towards Katniss, who stepped into his arms, longing for the comfort and familiarity only someone who had known her as long as Gale had could offer. "It'll be okay, Catnip"

 

Peeta's face darkened, taking in the scene, his skin flushed and his breathing hard, a reaction Katniss could not understand.  However, he appeared to quell whatever emotion was thrashing him about before responding to Katniss' earlier question.  "The longer the asshole stays on the line, the better able the police will be to triangulate his location. He's a slimy bastard though, " Peeta growled. “He got off before the three minutes we needed were up.”  He took the phone that Katniss held clutched in her hand and put it in his pocket.  “I’ll make sure the police get this,” he murmured, more to himself as he turned away and left the office.

 

“Pee-” she started but he was already gone.  Katniss visibly deflated in Gale’s arms. “Gale,” she said as she pulled back. “I’m really starting to look forward to this tour.  I’m so sick and tired of being on edge.”

 

“I know,” Gale said, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I swear, if I get my hands on the little shit, I’ll snap him in half.”

 

“Yeah,” Katniss said distractedly.  She couldn’t help but wonder at Peeta’s strange behavior, his abrupt exit, and how dependent her serenity had become on him.  

 

“He fucked up though,” she heard Gale say.  She realized he’d been talking and she hadn’t been listening.  She looked up at him curiously.  

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The note Peeta gave me to give to the police. It said that he was 99% certain your stalker is a man. I don’t know how he knows,” Gale said, shaking his head.  “But Peeta just knows things.” He looked down at her, and Katniss saw his sincerity, the desire, despite his impulsivity, to see her safe and sound.  “Peeta is a pill sometimes and a poster-boy for OCD, but he knows his stuff, I’ll give him that.”

 

Katniss cocked her head to the side, studying one of the people she’d known the longest in her life.  “Is that...are you giving him props?  You were just beating each other to a pulp a few weeks ago!”

 

Gale shrugged, the muscles in his shoulders straining his t-shirt.  Katniss didn’t remember when he’d gotten so _big_.  “Aw, that?  No, that was nothing. Just getting some shit off of our chests.”  Katniss was amazed to see the grin spreading across her friend’s face as he spoke.  She huffed out a long breath in response.

 

“I can’t,” Katniss scowled.  “I don’t understand you guys…”  Gale started laughing, giving her arm a squeeze to indicate she probably wasn’t meant to get it.  And she could almost see the humor in the situation but at that moment, the utter predictability of two men resolving their differences by pummeling each other until only one was left standing. But unfortunately, she was too busy fearing for her own safety.

 

**XXXXX**

 

After her conversation with the police, Katniss couldn’t calm down.  Effie, herself in the grip of stress for Katniss and the tour, was in one of her scheduling frenzies, timing Katniss right down to her bathroom breaks.  Peeta paced outside, reviewing his emails, and she knew that if she didn’t do something, she might not be able keep herself from breaking something.  She strode over to Peeta, taking care that neither Effie, Haymitch, or the others would hear her.

 

“Get me out of here,” she hissed in his ear, so close, he almost jumped out of his skin.  He looked at her incredulously.

 

“Where?  You’re not scheduled to go anywhere tonight,” he said, a little too loudly.

 

“Shhhh!” Katniss elbowed him, indicating towards Effie and Haymitch, who were both speaking animatedly about something that she knew would result in making her do more work. “I’ve gotta get out of here or I’m going to hurt somebody.”  She placed her hand on his arm, trying her best to convey the distress she was in.  He looked at her uncertainly, and she could tell he was struggling with this. The schedule had been set, and he was not one to deviate easily once things had been set down in black and white.  Katniss swore he even visibly trembled when he finally decided.  

 

“Okay. Well, you’re the boss.  I don’t see what the problem is,” he said, swallowing hard.

 

“No, actually, fucking Effie will fucking tackle me at the fucking door if I fucking try to leave,” Katniss said with exasperation, looking over to where Effie was _still_ chattering.

 

Peeta chuckled, his unease dissipating. “That’s a fucking impressive potty mouth you’ve got there.”

 

Katniss’ head snapped up to look at him. “Don’t swear!  Let’s sneak out the back.  Come on.”

 

She could feel his eyes boring into her back as he followed her quietly out the garden door.  “You don’t handle stress very well, do you?” he observed.  

 

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him.  “You’re one to talk. How many times did you rearrange the pens in the cupholder on the counter?” she hissed.  “Anyway, I’m not paid to handle stress.  Let me call the driver to meet us here instead of out front.  Fucking Effie."

 

Peeta glanced at her, taking her spare cell phone gently out of her hand, as the other one was still in police custody.  Even with his poker face, Katniss could tell that he had an idea. “Do you trust me?” he asked.  

 

Katniss didn’t even have to contemplate before giving her answer.  “With my life,” she answered sincerely and though it was stating the obvious, she could tell the statement visibly gave him a great deal of pleasure from the gentle smile that spread across his face.

 

“My car is in the garage of the guest house,” he said, leading her across the terracotta-colored slabs of stone of her driveway, down the walk to the guest house. “I’ll drive.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

“Put this on,” he said as she got in the front seat of his tiny red sports car, handing her a baseball cap.  Katniss demurred, pulling out her sun hat and large sunglasses, which added class to her jeans and white, v-neck t-shirt.  

 

“Nice!” Katniss said when she settled in, admiring the leather trim and brass accents. “How come I never noticed you drove an Alpha Romeo before?”

 

“I don’t drive my car when I’m on the job,” he said, glancing over at her.  “It’s cherry red, though. I would have thought even you couldn’t miss that.”

 

Katniss chuckled, the tension in her back and shoulders melting away the farther they got away from her home. “I guess I was too busy to pay attention.”

 

Peeta concentrated on the road in front of him, giving her the opportunity to study him. She turned slightly in her seat, as much as the bucket shape and seat belt allowed.  Without the chaos of her life to dampen her senses, she became aware of how handsome Peeta’s profile was, with his masculine, hard jaw line, almost too-large nose, full lips, and prominent chin set with a cleft that invited a person to touch it.  His thick shock of blond hair was slightly longer than when he’d first come to work with her, making him look younger than his actual age.

 

“You know, I remember everything I see,” he said at length, the car engine settling into fourth gear as they found their place on the highway. “I have an almost photographic memory. I can look at something one time, and it stays in my mind exactly as I see it.” he said, shifting gears as he took the exit, the sun just beginning to float low in the sky. “It makes drawing a lot easier.”

 

“You draw?” Katniss said, pleasantly surprised at both his admission and the way his mouth formed the words.  She swallowed hard but did not turn away.  Peeta nodded but did not look at her.  Katniss wondered if it was hard for him to share personal information, to open himself to any type of vulnerability.  She knew the feeling only too well.

 

“I was always good at drawing. I even took classes in high school.”

 

“Why didn’t you stick to it?” she asked, curious about this aspect of his personality.

 

Peeta shrugged. “My family life was a little hard. I didn’t think I was going to survive four years in college living at home. So I enlisted.” His face became more serious, and Katniss almost regretted asking except she was greedy and wanted to know everything about him.  “From then on, life just went in another direction.”

 

“Oh,” Katniss said, contemplating his words. "I’m a little like that with music.” Katniss smiled. “When I was in elementary school, I could hear a song and reproduce it on the piano without written notes in no time."

 

Katniss thought of her father, who loved to sing. "I get it from my father. His voice was so pure, it was said the birds would stop to listen when he sang.”  Katniss caught Peeta’s sympathetic glance and gave him a soft smile. “It’s a gift, but it becomes a comfort too. I’m lucky that I get to earn a living doing what I love.  It’s not too late for you to pursue your gift, maybe make it a hobby,” Katniss said hopefully, feeling sad on behalf of him and his lost dream.

 

“Maybe,” he said as he took a turn. Katniss, who had been so engrossed in the conversation, didn’t notice that they were now on the outskirts of town.  With a quizzical quirk of her eyebrow, she watched as he pulled his ultra-clean car onto a dirt road, the dry dust-cloud crowding behind them.  Katniss caught a sign as they drove  - Sae’s Drive-in Theater.  It took a moment for her to understand where he’d brought her.

 

“No way!” she laughed, sticking her head out of the window as they rounded the bend in the road.  The sun was already dipping down behind the horizon but the lot was still visible, the dying light of day glinting off the corners of the old-fashioned box speakers perched at regular intervals before the giant screen.  Katniss practically squealed in delight.

 

“I have never been in a drive-in movie theater!” she exclaimed.

 

“I figured it would get you out without, you know, putting you out there,” Peeta said sheepishly.  "We lucked out - they're not open every day. Just keep your hat on until we buy our tickets.”

 

Katniss adjusted the hat, tilting the brim downwards to hide her face from the teenager selling tickets at the ticket booth. She just caught the way the young man’s eyes went wide at the sight of the car, practically dropping his change on the grass between the car and the counter.

 

“Thanks,” Peeta said.  He drove to the farthest corner of the parcel, even though there were all of six cars scattered throughout the grass covered field.  Shutting off the engine, he pressed a button, lowering the convertible top, the cool night air spilling into the car.  He removed his jacket and tie, folding both neatly and placing them in the small space behind the seats.  He turned towards her, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt as he peered at her with those vivid blue eyes.  Katniss could see the gentle ripple of muscle and light scattering of blond hair on the exposed area of his chest. It wasn’t much but within a moment, the space in the car was suddenly too constricted to hold them both. She cleared her throat and indicated the screen.

 

“What’s on tonight?” she asked, hoping to soften the tension that was slowly beginning to build between them.

 

Peeta pulled the movie reciept and attached announcement. “You’re in luck. It’s a special viewing of _Rent_ ,” he laughed, shaking his head. “What are the chances of that?”

 

“I love _Rent_!” Katniss said and in an unrestrained moment of excitement, flung her arms around Peeta’s neck.  “Thank you so much!  This was the perfect idea,” she said against his neck, realizing her actions when she felt his arms wrap themselves lightly around her waist.

 

She pulled back, his nose just inches from her.  His eyes were no longer their vivid blue but opaque, like the night sky that threatens to cast its shroud at dusk. Before all the light faded, Katniss saw every fleck and glint of blue and gold in Peeta’s eyes as if stars had settled in their opaque depths.  Every atom in Katniss’ body quivered, the unbearable heaviness of the air between them threatening to rend itself in half like electricity that builds until lightning strikes.

 

Thankfully, the attendant arrived to take their order, shattering the moment.  They jerked away from one another, leaving each to find their peace in any way they could.  Katniss wiped a trickle of sweat off her cheek, struggling to control her heated body.

 

“Would you like something to eat?”  Peeta asked, his breath coming in gasps.

 

“Popcorn, of course,” Katniss said breathlessly, running her hands over her braid.  She ducked her head to make sure she wasn’t recognized.  “A Coke and cheese fries.  Do you have cheese fries?”

 

“Yes, ma’am. With chili or without?” the young girl asked.

 

“Without, I think. Peeta?  I’m making all the decisions. What would you like?”

 

“Oh…” he asked as if startled from a daze.  “No chili, please. Terrible aftertaste.” He took out his wallet. Katniss made to stop him, but he shook his head.

 

“I’m not on the clock,” he said as he paid the girl and put his change away.

 

The lights dropped throughout the drive-in as the screen brightened.  Glancing surreptitiously at Peeta, she caught him running his hands through his hair, then over his thighs before settling in to watch the previews.  Katniss reclined her head on the head rest, ignoring the scenes from movies she didn’t care about, reviewing the events of the day.

 

“How are you so sure the caller is a man?  Whoever it was used something to change their voice,” she asked abruptly.

 

Peeta turned his head towards her. “They were using voice distortion, but it was very low quality. You could hear the male voice and inflection. I mean, I don’t know how that really helps at the moment, given that we've now only excluded half of the human race,” he groused, his voice suddenly full of frustration.

 

“Hey,” she said, sensing his his changing mood.  “It’s progress, isn’t it?”

 

Peeta’s face became grim as the music of the opening credits filled the rickety speaker.  “The only progress I’m interested in is catching the bastard.”

 

XXXXX

 

"I could watch watch that movie a thousand times," said Katniss as the film came to a close.

 

"Me too," Peeta said. "In fact, I may already have," he explained.

 

"You?" Katniss said with incredulity.  "I would have never taken you for a Broadway type of guy."  Peeta looked slightly embarrassed but then just shrugged and laughed.

 

"I love musicals and operas, for that matter," he said, his eyes barely visible by the light of the half-moon. Even in the dim light, they twinkled full of mirth, and Katniss decided she liked seeing him happy.

 

“Opera, huh? I actually trained at Juilliard as a soprano. I love opera too.” She said this as she twisted the straw of her Coke.  “But I got signed with Capitol Records and cut a few singles.  Then, I dropped out of Juilliard and the rest, as they say, is history.” She said this as the last car pulled out of the lot, leaving them in complete solitude.

 

“So you can sing _La Traviata_ or _Phantom of the Opera_? _Phantom_ is, hands down, my absolute favorite musical,” he said in wonder.  

 

Katniss smiled and running her voice over a few scales to warm up her vocal chords, opened her mouth to let her most mournful soprano voice fill the sky:

 

_Say you'll love me every waking moment_

_Turn my head with talk of summer time_

_Say you need me with you now and always_

_Promise me that all you say is true_

_That's all I ask of you_

 

Peeta looked at her, awestruck, and as the last note faded, he took up the next verse, causing a look of pure shock to cross Katniss’ face.

 

_Let me be your shelter_

_Let me be your light_

_You're safe, no one will find you_

_Your fears are far behind you_

 

Katniss smiled broadly and continued:

 

_All I want is freedom_

_A world with no more night_

_And you, always beside me_

_To hold me and to hide me_

 

Peeta took up the challenge, and they alternated their verses, her voice as clear as a summer rain, his chasing in its untrained but steady baritone:

 

_Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime_

_Let me lead you from your solitude_

_Say you need me with you here, beside you_

_Anywhere you go, let me go too_

_That's all I ask of you_

 

Katniss:

 

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime_

_Say the word and I will follow you_

_Share each day with me, each night, each morning_

_Say you love me_

 

Peeta paused before letting the last words fall from his mouth.

 

_You know I do_

_Love me, that's all I ask of you._

 

Katniss had been singing all her life.  She knew that music had palpable power and could hold a crowd of thousands in its sway.  But this moment had entranced her, and she could feel the magic that gripped them dancing in the cool breeze of the summer evening.  She could practice until she was blue in the face, stretch and coerce every sound from her nimble vocal chords, but Peeta invited magic in the spaces between the notes.  It hung between them, begging to be acknowledged, embraced, and given a home.  His blue eyes were magnets that held hers and she knew, at that moment, that he felt the same way she did.

 

"You can sing," Katniss whispered.

 

"No, I don’t, but..." he faltered, "with you, I want to do things I've never done before."

 

For the first time, his face was open and unguarded, the mask of invincibility finally falling completely away.  Katniss saw the gesture for what it was and responded, tilting her head upwards.  She leaned towards him, tendrils of hair floating over her eyes from the soft, night breeze, but she paid them no mind.  He moved as if attracted by the inexorable force of her gravitational pull, and soon their lips met in the space the music created.  The sparks of anger that they'd set off the first day they'd met became the heat that bound their lips together now.

 

When Katniss pulled back, she let her eyes drop, feeling unbearably shy. Peeta sat as if frozen but she did not dare to look up at his face, for fear that perhaps she had gone too far and silently cursed her impulsiveness.  She began to turn away, trying not to let him see her shame but his hand slipped gently behind her neck and pulled her back to him. This time, he was more determined and there was no longer any doubt. Katniss melted into the kisses, a small whimper of release buried in her throat, his own sigh his response. Her lips opened in invitation, and he accepted, savoring every inch of her tongue until she was breathless.

 

Katniss pressed her forehead against his, both of them struggling to regain their composure. Finally, she slowly opened her eyes, afraid that he might be sorry for kissing her. But all she saw was naked admiration and a delicious smirk that made her want to bite his mouth.

 

"Am I fired yet?" he asked, offering her a glimpse of that wonderful humor that he sometimes  worked so hard to hide.

 

Katniss gave him a slow, sultry smile, tugging his collar to bring him back into her orbit. "Kiss me again, and I'll let you know. "

 


	7. Part 6

**_I found out what I've been missin'_ **

**_Always on the run_ **

**_I've been lookin' for someone_ **

 

 **_from_ ** **You Give Good Love** **_by_ ** **_Whitney Houston_**

 

**Peeta**

 

Katniss rested her hand on Peeta’s arm during the drive home. The shape of the seats and gear shaft between them made any other contact impossible.  But she might as well have been sitting on his lap, for he was acutely aware of the position of every cell in her body.  He tried to isolate his feelings and examine them one by one - physical excitement, of course.  He’d been attracted to Katniss from the first second she saw her.  Anxiety, which was a part of his physical attraction, he now realized.  Jealousy - he thought he might not be able to maintain his tenuous peace with Gale if the man ever touched her again.  Fear - he had no fucking clue what he was doing, and he was literally terrified of what it all meant. But there was also one more feeling in the middle of the melange of others that he was completely unaccustomed to experiencing, having only ever felt it under two circumstances in his life - when he drew and when he played with Tristan.

 

He was out of his mind with happiness.

 

And that scared him even more than the business end of a rifle.

 

He drove with his senses on maximum alert, the way he always did. But the feeling of Katniss’ fingertips on the exposed skin of his forearms was enough to scramble his senses, sending tongues of searing flame over his entire body.  It took all of his strength to focus on the road before him until they pulled into the gate of her home and through the covered garage of the guest house.  He barely came to a stop before snapping the emergency brake in place and cutting the engine, after which he was out the door and on her side in a heartbeat.

 

He stilled his racing heart, gallantly offering Katniss his hand, pulling her up from the low-seat.  They stared at one another in the dark, the only illumination a soft bulb that floated just behind Katniss’ shoulder. Her eyes had darkened to take in the spare light of the garage, a small smile spreading across her face.  She stepped up on her tip toes and left a warm, lingering kiss on his cheek that he leaned into, reveling in her warm breath fanning across his skin.

 

“Let’s not pretend this didn’t happen,” Katniss said. “You have a selective memory when you choose to.”

 

Peeta let his eyes flutter shut as he listened to her before turning his head, his nose just brushing hers. “No.” he said softly, his eyes taking in her soft, full lips, begging to be kissed again.  “I don’t want to forget.” He lowered his lips to hers and fulfilled her unspoken desire, taking in the now unmistakable taste of her, his hands roaming hesitantly over her sides.  Katniss slid her hands over his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer so that they were flush against each other. There was no way he could hide his desire for her, pressing insistently as it was against her jean-clad hips.  It was merciless, the effect she had on him, and he pulled back, though every muscles in his body screamed for her.

 

With some difficulty, he moved in the direction of the house and walked her to the back door, still vigilant despite the putty that she’d reduced his mind to.  He unlocked the door, holding it open for her.

 

She stopped at the threshold and turned towards him. “Good night, Peeta,” she said, her finger tracing a path along his jaw and coming to rest in the cleft of his chin.  She smiled with an air of self-satisfaction.  “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

 

He caught her errant hand, running his fingers over the smooth skin of her wrist before leaving a kiss there. “And I’ve always wanted to do that,” he muttered quietly, feeling her racing pulse leap and strum beneath his lips. The small gasp she gave was the proof that she’d heard him.

 

Peeta stepped back, watching her as she made her way inside, her eyes twinkling when she looked over her shoulder to catch him staring at her with more than just protectiveness. He knew that his desire for her was bright and evident in his face but he could no more suppress it than he could stop time.  A small voice in his head warned him that he should be more cautious, more circumspect. He had perfected the art of camouflage, a chameleon for all circumstances. And yet despite all his reservations, his small terrors and enormous doubts, he didn’t want to hide from Katniss.  He wanted to say something to someone and finally mean it.  As he walked back to his rooms, it was this thought, more than any other, that tormented him.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta was carefully holstering his nine millimeter when his cell buzzed the next morning.

 

“Peeta, did I wake you?”

 

“Annie!” Peeta half laughed as he sat down, running his hands through his hair.  “You’re up early.”

 

“I have a thing at Tristan's school so I don’t have much time but you didn’t RSVP for the party?” Annie had a way of making her statements sound like questions and that, together with her high voice and breathless way of saying things, made her sound far younger than she was.

 

Peeta groaned. “Oh, damn, Annie, I’m sorry!  I just got busy but you know I’ll be there.”  

 

Annie giggled with happiness. “Tristan is going to be so happy!  By the way, he loved the puzzles and sketches. He can’t believe you’re actually working for Katniss Everdeen. The kids love her at school.”

 

“I’m glad he liked them,” Peeta laughed, genuinely pleased.  “I have the luxury of undoing all your hard work and spoiling him before giving him back to you when I’m done.”

 

“Silly,” she said affectionately. “So?” Annie said excitedly.  “What’s it like working for a celebrity?”

 

Peeta shook his head, thinking _if only she knew_. “Noisy.”

 

“Noisy?” Annie laughed in turn now, her voice like the chirping of songbirds, a sound that instantly made him feel good about everything.  “Probably because she’s a singer?”

 

“Of course!” he said, “But she always has so many people around her.  There’s also music, though and that’s nice.”  There was also Katniss herself but Peeta decided he would be idiotic if he waxed poetic about her to Annie.  “I thought it was going to be a lot worse.”

 

“I’m glad. You deserve...you deserve some calm in your life,” she said quietly.  Peeta stood, walking to the window to look out on a small meadow that ran from the side of the house up to the fenced forest.

 

“I’ll see you Saturday, then?” he said.

 

“Saturday!  Tristan would take the phone from me if he was here but he’s inside, and I have to get going.”

 

They said their goodbyes and Peeta hung up, thinking about Annie and how good she was.  She’d long forgiven him for being the one to live and had welcomed him with open arms into her family.  She’d shared Tristan with him when he had no other comfort and let Peeta become someone important in Finnick’s son’s life. Her goodness had allowed him to find a place in their lives, and he felt like he belonged with her family much more than with his own. She’d done more than forgiven him.  She’d adopted him as her own.

 

Leaning his head against the window pane in reflection., he hoped that one day, he’d figure out a way to finally forgive himself, too.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss had an early day, and Peeta could already hear Effie giving her an earful.

 

“We were supposed to go over your interview today with Caesar Flickerman, of all people!  My goodness, Katniss. What got into you last night, disappearing like that?” Effie’s exasperated shriek echoed from beyond the door as Peeta placed his hand on the knob.  If Peeta hadn’t been such a stickler for schedules too, he might have laughed at her frustration.

 

“I bet you I could venture a guess,” Haymitch chortled in the background, his comment reaching Peeta’s ear as he entered the living room in the middle of Effie’s tirade.

 

“And you!” Effie turned her her attention to Peeta, already prepared for the verbal tongue-lashing.  “You are supposed to help her keep her schedule and get her to places safely and _on time_!  I called you both at least twenty times yesterday, insisting that you bring her back, and you didn’t even respond with so much as a text message?  Is that all I get for my troubles?”  She glared at him, and Peeta was reminded strongly of the times Tristan had thrown fits as a toddler.  

 

Haymitch sat in his usual spot near the lavish bar with his arms crossed, suppressing his laughter at Effie’s tantrum, eyeing Peeta and Katniss with an air of one who was determined to be entertained.

 

“Don’t fuss at him,” snapped Katniss.  “He only did what I asked him to do. My phone was with the police, and I turned off the spare.”

 

“You turned off…?” Effie huffed, appearing to swell to twice her size. Her flamboyant makeup and impeccable hair were in danger of possibly combusting from her indignation.  “You are a mega-star, Katniss Everdeen!  But you cannot permit yourself to shirk your responsibilities ala Lindsay Lohan!  Look what it did to her - she looks three times her age now!”

 

Haymitch raised an eyebrow, wrinkling his face in askance and even Peeta, who normally ignored her tirades, had to wonder at Effie’s complete inability to be logical and coherent.

 

Katniss erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to repress her mirth at the utter implausibility of Effie’s argument.  “What the hell does Lohan and not being responsible have to do with...never mind...” she trailed off, clearly deciding the argument wasn’t worth the time.  Her face affected its typical serious scowl.  “I needed a break. I’m sorry I ruined your schedule. Do we have some time to make it up this morning before we go to Flickerman’s studio to record the interview?”

 

Effie, who in Peeta’s short experience, never appeared to reproach an apology or anything that did not smack of appeasement, visibly forced herself to calm down, tugging the hem of her suit jacket, though she was clearly still piqued, much to Haymitch’s obvious amusement. Peeta was perfectly impassive, even if he was not immune to the ridiculousness of the situation, intuiting correctly that the less he argued, the less likely he would be further included in her verbal harassment.

 

“Well, I can’t have you going into an interview of that caliber without any coaching whatsoever. You had a rehearsal scheduled that you will simply have to cancel. Peeta, we will need to be at the studio at exactly 11am.  That should give us enough time.” Effie sniffed. “It is not enough but it will have to do.”  She moved stiffly to the study. “We will reconvene as soon as you have had your breakfast.” With that, Effie turned her nose up into the air and marched off to prepare for their interview.

 

Haymitch shook his head, laughing to himself while Peeta took in Katniss’ appearance - she’d just woken and she still had the air of sleep about her - tousled hair and clear eyes but with a slightly bleary gaze. She nursed a coffee but discreetly watched him over the rim of her cup.  Peeta made his way to the kitchen, hoping to get away from Haymitch and warm up with a coffee of his own.  Predictably, Katniss rose to follow, leaving Haymitch to his own private glee.

 

“I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with Effie,” Katniss said, leaning against the counter as he fixed his coffee.  His stomach flipped at her proximity and her insistence on wearing the tiniest possible shorts as her pajama of choice.

 

“A small price to pay,” he said, trying to be nonchalant and finding his senses utterly befuddled by her bed head. He suppressed the urge to run his hands through the morass of her thick, dark hair.  “How do you feel?”

 

Katniss breathed deeply, appearing to consider the question for the first time.  “Excited. Maybe a bit panicked.”

 

“Regrets?”

 

Her face darkened as she set her cup down on the counter.  “Never.” She placed her hand on his sleeve, searching his expression. “Not one.”

 

“It complicates things, you know,” he said hesitantly.

 

“Life’s complicated,” Katniss said. “But if you’re having second thoughts about...things...”

 

Peeta had a momentary flash of doubt, a sudden urge to tell her that actually, he had second thoughts about everything, that he didn’t really deserve to feel the way he did at this moment, so completely overwhelmed by everything about her. He didn’t deserve to want someone like her and to have her want him back. He was a thief of the time that should have gone to Finnick but Peeta was here in his place instead.  He knew all these things but he wanted those things anyway, and it made him feel wicked and greedy.

 

He shook his head, realizing at that moment that he was terrified...but also certain and those were two things that didn’t inhabit his headspace very easily.  “No, not at all.” He stepped closer to her, curling his large, baker’s hands around her smaller one.  “I’ll figure it out.”

 

They leaned against the counter, sipping from their respective cups, unwilling to release each other.  He felt suddenly like a knight, riding with her token into battle, his desire to protect her growing stronger with each passing second.  He should have known when he’d become obsessed with her protection that it was more than him taking his job seriously.  And this fixation reared itself again. He hadn’t taken a day off in weeks and there was no question; he had to be with Tristan on Saturday. _Yet how could he leave her?_ Even though his team members were trained by him, he couldn’t leave it to chance that she’d be safe with them. One moment. One moment of distraction was all that was needed for something terrible to happen. He’d learned that the hard way.

 

“Are you...are you up for another escapade?” he asked abruptly.

 

Katniss brightened, straightening in anticipation.  “Are you asking me out on an official date, Mr. Mellark?”  Peeta cringed.  What he was inviting her to was likely no one’s idea of a date, much less someone who regularly associated with people capable of buying or doing anything they wanted.

 

“Something like that,” Peeta said slowly. “It’s my nephew’s...well, he’s not...anyway, it’s my nephew’s 9th birthday party this Saturday. I know Effie has you booked all the way to next November but I always go and make a ridiculous fool of myself for his sake.” He paused, grateful to see the sparks of interest in Katniss’ grey eyes hadn’t faded away.  “Would you...would you like to come with me?  It would be discrete - I’d make sure of it. And he...he is a pretty big fan of yours.”

 

“Does he know you work with me?” Katniss said, rubbing the back of his hand.

 

“Well, I pretty much bragged to all five people that I knew in the world that I was working for you.” Peeta’s last words were drowned in her laughter and the anxiety of asking her dissipated instantly.  “I had already taken the day off but…” He looked down at their hands between them. “I would have been nervous the whole time anyway and obviously…I can’t really take you out…”

 

“You could,” she said gently, perhaps pitying his unease.  “I’d have to go in disguise, that’s all.  There are places where celebrities can go in relative peace.”

 

“That wouldn’t be any fun for you, though, would it?” He looked up, feeling the expectation and hope written all over his face and doing nothing to conceal it. “I mean, it’s a kid’s birthday party. It isn’t exactly Livello’s but...so, what do you think…?”

 

Katniss smiled, the perfect combination of shyness and warmth that took his breath away. “I think I would love to go with you,” she said with utter sincerity.  “Thank you.”

 

“For what?” he asked, confusedly.

 

Katniss shrugged.  “For not...for not being...weird...about things.”

 

Peeta recovered from his schoolboy crush daze, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again but mindful that, with Haymitch and Effie, the house had become a sudden minefield. “I’m weird, but not about that,” he smiled, their bodies having drifted so close, their noses were almost touching.

 

Katniss made to respond when her sister’s voice drifted through the living room. “Where’s Katniss?” she said as she bounced into the kitchen.  At that instant, Katniss and Peeta leapt apart, suddenly engrossed in their respective coffee cups.

 

“Hi?” she said inquisitively, eyeing them both strangely before making her way to Katniss, giving her a tight hug.  “Hi, Peeta!  Nice to see you again!”

 

“You too, Prim,” he said, clearing his throat to steady his words. “I’m going to round up the guys and do my morning check.”

“Okay...thank you...Peeta,” Katniss stammered.

 

“Have fun!” Prim said cheerfully as Peeta escaped with long strides out to the relative safety of the veranda.  Haymitch only chuckled as Peeta passed, and he was all the more glad to be out in the morning air to put his thoughts and feelings in order.

 

**XXXXX**

 

“Here are your cards, dear,” Effie chirped as they drove to the studio. “I’ve written all the vetted question points on each one.  You have a few moments - review them carefully.”  Effie touched her pink-tinged hair delicately, clearly annoyed at a random strand that had gotten loose from her coiffure.  Katniss gave Peeta a surreptitious smirk, setting the cards gently on the seat next to her.

 

“It’s not exactly CNN. I think I can get away with what we’ve done this morning,” Katniss answered, her eyes drifting over to where Peeta sat.  He tried not to stare at her interview outfit - a simple, form-fitting dress with spaghetti straps that was black at the top and bodice and became progressively redder until it faded into a burnished orange and finally a pale yellow. It reminded Peeta of a flickering candle and particularly, he loved the orange hue that pulsed with Katniss’ every movement as if alive.  Her carefully manicured feet were on full display, as she’d chosen a pair of high-heeled sandals with delicate straps the color of the faded yellow of her dress hem. He tried not to stare at the barely-there ankle bracelet that hung loosely around the slender ankle.

 

“Do you like Katniss’ dress, Peeta?” Prim asked.  “Katniss scored a promotional contract with Cinna Studios.  Cinna Brahim, the owner and head designer, refers to Katniss as his greatest inspiration.”

 

“He’s very dramatic,” Katniss demurred, scowling at her sister.

 

“Well, I can’t fault the man,” Peeta said, capturing Katniss’ gaze and holding it.  “I think sometimes, Katniss doesn’t know the effect she has on people.”

 

Katniss stared at Peeta as if in a trance, and suddenly he was no longer aware of the other people in the car.  All he was aware of was the way her mouth seemed to entice him to be reckless, to kiss it, gently first, then roughly, until it became swollen beneath his.  It suddenly couldn’t think of anything else but that. And yet, half of him simply wanted to ignore the way those lips said his name and not give in to their dangerous promise.

 

“You never did tell me whether you liked the dress,” Katniss said, breaking the stupor into which he’d fallen.

 

Peeta felt warm, despite the crisp, air-conditioned interior and squirmed under the now curious gaze of Prim. “It’s beautiful.”  He leaned towards her, dropping his voice so that only she could hear him.  “That orange is my favorite color,” he indicated to where the color flooded the dress above her thighs.

 

“Is it?” Katniss said somewhat dreamily, before turning to watch the scenery speed by, a small smile dancing on her normally serious face. He stared at her fingers twitching nervously on her lap and wanted nothing more than to capture them and still their movements with a caress of his own.  “I like green, myself," she said.  

 

“Lime green?  Emerald green?” Peeta asked.

 

Katniss’ expression softened.  “No. Forest green. Like the woods I used to hunt in with my father.”

 

Prim’s eyes widened in surprise at her sister. “You told him about dad?  She never talks about him to anyone!” She clamped her hand over her mouth, turning away as her face became veiled and unreadable.  Katniss scowled but said nothing more.

 

Peeta thought of the woods that he’d felt necessary to fence in, a strange sadness stealing over him.  He had an abrupt image of her, hunting between tall pine trees, tracking a rabbit or maybe even a deer.  In his daydream,  it was springtime - he could almost smell the flowers blooming in the semi-shade of the forested meadows.  Instead of the immaculate makeup and form-fitting dress, she wore cargo pants, boots, and a tank top, perhaps a worn leather hunting jacket to keep out the dewy air of sunrise.  She was free and wild and for Peeta, it was more like the Katniss he suspected hid beneath the hard, starspun, celebrity exterior than any Katniss her public or handlers had ever seen.

 

Effie’s shrill voice pierced the air as she pressed the interview cards back into Katniss’ hand. “Preparation is everything!” she pontificated, as if anything else was tantamount to a mortal sin.  “And there is no such thing as being over-prepared!”

 

When they arrived, it was as chaotic as Peeta had feared. The entrance to the studio was thronged with fans and onlookers. They helds signs and pens in the hopes that they might score an autograph or picture.  The car before them held Johanna and Madge, who would provide backup to Katniss’ live performance, as well as Gale and Brutus. The crowds cheered, then quieted when the occupants of the first car emptied its cargo onto the curbside, disappointment that it had not held their idol.  But like a rising seawave, the crowds roared when Katniss finally emerged from her car, waving at the cameras and fans.  

 

Peeta was inclined to whisk Katniss into the safety of the building, disobeying her instructions that she be left to interact with fans during events such as these.  However, he knew better than to counter direct orders, no matter how exposed she was. Like it or not, it was her job, and he couldn't interfere.  However, he scanned each and every face, every sudden movement, as if the man responsible for terrorizing Katniss could be so easily discovered by a look. The sickening knot of fear in his stomach eased slightly when Katniss and Prim moved down the last stretch of pavement before stepping inside the studio building with Peeta and Effie bringing up the rear.

 

Madge and Johanna waited for Katniss just inside the metal doors leading to the dressing rooms. Their dresses were designed the same way as Katniss’, except they were solid black.  Watching the three of them together, Peeta could not help but be impressed by the way the solid colors made Katniss’ dress more dramatic, turning her into something more than beautiful, more even than desirable, but rather radiant like the sun.

 

Johanna halted their progress down the hallway when a tall, leggy blond walked towards them.  Katniss’ chin automatically rose, drawing herself up to her full height, aided by her high-heels.

 

“How are you, Glimmer?” Katniss said blandly.  “I haven’t seen you since the VMA last year.”  

 

“Katniss Everdeen,” Glimmer fairly snarled, looking down her nose at Katniss from her formidable height.  “You’ll be on the show also?  Right. Behind. Me,” she fairly crowed.  

 

Prim’s lips became thin and suddenly, she was not very sweet-looking anymore. “Katniss is the guest performer.  The highlight.  Are you singing today?” she asked with an air of innocence that was betrayed by the wicked gleam in her eyes.

 

Glimmer didn’t say anything, just glaring at Prim, as if this was not the first time they’d exchanged words.

 

“She’s still sore, I guess,” Johanna whispered conspiratorially towards Madge, clearly intending for Glimmer to hear her.  “I mean, losing Best Video of the Year to Katniss Everdeen, not once but two years in a row, must really put wrinkles on her face.”  

 

Glimmer scowled, looking angrily now at all four ladies, appearing to be particularly offended by the emotionless expression on Katniss’ face. Sensing Glimmer’s mood, Peeta stood discreetly beside Katniss, suspecting the woman they were taunting was not completely in control of herself.

 

“Well, that was last year, this is another year.  So I wouldn’t play it so cool.”

 

“It’s just business, Glimmer. You know how it goes,” Katniss said cooly.

 

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition, I suppose,” Glimmer sniffed stiffly, taking in Katniss’ entourage as if they were a collection of escaped zoo animals.  However, when her eyes fell on Peeta, her entire demeanor changed, a slow smile spreading across her face.

 

“New bodyguard?  Hmmm…” She looked him up and down with obvious appreciation.  “Finally stepping up your game, Everdeen?” She stepped slightly to the side to admire Peeta from another angle before addressing him directly. “If you ever want a gig with a serious performer, give me a call.”

 

“Thanks, but he’s not looking for work at this time,” Katniss interjected in a clipped tone, her mask of indifference finally giving way to one of open hostility.  Glimmer sneered gleefully, realizing she’d hit the mark.

 

“I didn’t ask you, did I?  I was talking to Mr...what’s your name?” she asked Peeta with a saccharine smile.

 

“Peeta Mellark,” he said curtly.

 

“Peeta Mellark. So,” she said, her eyes hungrily sweeping his body again, making no attempts to hide the way her eyes lingered on his ass.  Katniss’ face darkened further, her scowl becoming so deep, it warped her face.  “You know, I could double her pay.”

 

Peeta studied the woman for a moment - all blond and touched up, giving the impression of ice and frigidness. He felt a fierce dislike for her - for baiting Katniss, using him to anger her, and for her all around lack of artistry in attacking her rival.

 

“Like Katniss said, I’m not looking for work,” he said with bored indifference.  Glimmer’s face paled with rage.  It was clear to Peeta that she didn’t hear the word “no” very often.”

 

“Uh-oh,” Madge started. “You better call wardrobe and get another dress…”

 

“Because that shade of hate doesn’t look good on you,” Johanna completed the sentence.  Everyone sniggered, and even Peeta had a hard time suppressing his mirth as Glimmer huffed angrily, turning on her heel and marching down the hall.

 

“What was that all about?” Peeta asked when the laughter had died down.

 

Katniss smirked at Peeta, though her eyes still glittered with residual anger as the sharp slamming of Glimmer’s door reverberated down the hallway.  “Glimmer Alexander and I go all the way back to Juilliard.  She graduated top of her class.  Paid her dues.  She’s a hard worker and very talented…”

 

“Oh, please, Brainless!” Johanna snapped. “She might have a great voice but she is one of the most vain, empty-headed, glory whores in the entire industry.  Don’t try to be the bigger person.”

 

“She’s had a grudge against Katniss almost since the beginning,” Prim interjected, now capturing Peeta’s undivided attention.  “She’s very competitive, and even though she has had a lot of success, she’s always just behind Katniss.  Don’t you read People’s magazine?  Their rivalry is epic.”

 

“For it to be a rivalry, it has to be two-sided,” Katniss said. Peeta could tell this tension with Glimmer was not something she was completely comfortable with.  “But that’s not how the rags depict it and honestly, I think Glimmer does nothing to suggest otherwise. It keeps her in the public eye.”

 

“Yeah, seeing as her Pop-Tart act doesn’t do it,” spat Johanna.  

 

“Alright everyone!” came Effies shrill voice, followed by a loud clap. “They’ll be ready for us in five!”

 

The preparations for the show’s recording effectively ended the conversation.  However, the exchange gave Peeta a lot to think about.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta hovered quietly in the background as Katniss turned on what he came to think of as the “switch,” the alternate personality that she trotted out when it was time for her to play for the cameras.  At the moment, Famous Katniss was flirting unabashedly with Caesar Flickerman, who seemed to melt like butter in her hand.

 

_Caesar: My, my. Wooh, wooh, wooh! Now, Katniss, this is a very big and very emotional night, for all of us.  Wouldn't you say?  This is the first live performance of your latest single!_

 

_Katniss: Oh, don't go crying on me now, Caesar._

 

Peeta smiled at this, knowing that this was something the real Katniss would say.

 

_Caesar: I can't be making promises, you know me._

 

_Katniss: You know I wouldn't believe you even if you did (audience laughter)_

 

_Caesar: I love her! The Girl on Fire, so cheeky.  (audience applause)  Now, I think we have what you’ve been waiting for.  From her latest album, Girl on Fire, here’s Katniss Everdeen singing “You Give Good Love.”_

 

The lights dimmed, a soft light falling like a halo over her.  Johanna and Madge, standing directly behind her, faded to black while Katniss’ dress appeared to flare in the residual light.  She swayed gently in time with her backup singers as she sang a sensuous ballad that caused a blanket of silence to fall over the audience.  Her gently rocking hips and smooth steps made her dress come to life, flickering like a living flame. The effect was mesmerizing and even Caesar Flickerman lost the idiotic smile he reserved for his celebrity guests, a sincere admiration washing over his features.

 

There was a certain level of detachment that he expected of himself when working for Katniss.  He was not star-struck, blinded by fame or overwhelmed by the glamour.  But then, there was Katniss’ voice, which had nothing and everything to do with her fame.  It was the tangible, most real part of her and no matter how much he separated himself from the hype and frenzy that often surrounded her, her voice could always reduce him to dumb awe.  Even now, as the studio filled with the smooth, sexy cadences of her song, he could feel it reaching all the way down into his belly, spreading to every last extremity until his body wanted nothing more than to surrender to her song.

 

Even after the segment ended and the studio erupted in cheers and shouts of adulation, Peeta still carried the heady effects of the sound in his mind, determined to pull it out and enjoy it when he was alone and safe, to shamelessly lose himself in a way he could not with the very person who possessed that voice.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss and Prim chatted quietly during the trip home.  There was a rehearsal session that evening that would keep Katniss busy into the night, and Prim was arranging to stay with her sister. Peeta scanned the highway when he heard a discreet tapping at the divider.

 

“Thresh?” Peeta asked.

 

“Check out the black F150, middle lane, three cars back. Been in the same position for the last four exits,” Thresh murmured quietly.  Peeta turned slightly, using his peripheral vision to study the vehicle and realized every move the limo made, the black car mimicked.  The grim determination that once fell over Peeta right before a battle swept through him, setting his blood on fire.

 

“Don’t change a thing.” Peeta thought quickly about their trajectory home and decided to take the city route, where the traffic would slow the driver down.

 

“Take Exit 110 to go back through downtown,” Peeta instructed.  He speed-dialed Officer Cartwright.

 

Katniss, who had the sixth sense of a cat, paused from talking to her sister. “Why the change?”

 

Peeta glanced at her, knowing he could not keep anything from her. She wouldn’t appreciate it.  And if her were in her place, he would want to know also.  

 

“There’s a chance we’re being followed,” he answered as the officer picked up the line.

 

“Officer Cartwright’s office,” came the response and Peeta marvelled yet again at how strange it was that a detective could have the voice of a kindergarten teacher.

 

“Officer, this is Peeta Mellark. Katniss Everdeen’s head of security. We think we’re being followed.”

 

He heard Cartwright shuffle paper before responding.  “Do you have a make and model?”

 

“Black F150, tinted windows, closed cab.  Probably 4-wheel drive.  That’s all we can get from here.”

 

“License plate?” prompted the detective.

 

“Not within visual.”

 

“What’s your current location?” He heard the static of the police radio in the background as she prepared to call it in.

 

“We are nearing the Civic Center at Grand Park.”  

 

Officer Cartwright paused, writing down Peeta’s indications. “I need your car, make, model, and license plate.  We’ll send a unit out to the corner of North Broadway and Arcadia. Proceed as normal.  We’ll take care of this.”

 

“Copy that.” Peeta disconnected the call after providing Officer Cartwright with the requested information.  He looked at Katniss, resenting the fact that he did not have much comfort to offer her.

 

The color slowly drained from Katniss’ face but otherwise, her hand seeking her sister’s was the only sign of her distress.  

 

“We’re driving through the downtown to get home. It will take a little longer but I might get a look at whoever it is.  Officer Cartwright will have a unit waiting near the exit onto 101.” Peeta paused, looking Katniss directly in the eye, “I don’t want to be alone with him on a lonely road.”

 

“My home is surrounded by lonely roads, Peeta,” Katniss groused angrily but he knew he was not the object of her frustration.

 

“I can’t do anything about that,” Peeta replied. “But I can keep us off of those for as long as possible.” He pressed the smooth touch screen of his phone, eyeing Katniss as he waited for his caller to answer.  She scowled slightly, an expression mirrored almost exactly by her sister, the resemblance particularly striking despite the contrast between Katniss’ dark appearance and her sister’s lighter one.”

 

When Gale answered, Peeta skipped the salutations. “Gale we’re going through the downtown area.  We’re being followed.”

 

“What do we need to do?” Gale asked calmly.

 

“Nothing. Go home. Check-in with the guys and secure the property. We’ll be home within the hour.”

 

“This is ridiculous,” Effie burst out, the tension having reached a boiling point.  “This is going to throw our entire schedule off.”

 

Katniss turned toward her and Peeta sensed she was about to let Effie have a taste of her own fear and frustration.  He didn’t think he wanted to be a witness to that.

 

“Effie, you are one of the most organized, competent people I have ever met. I have no doubt that you will use your skills to overcome this setback,” Peeta said smoothly.  He watched as Effie’s demeanor changed. She lifted her chin, smiling brightly and swelling with pride.

 

“Why, yes...yes I am!  It’s one of the reasons that I am Senior Publicist with Capitol Records.  I will get this schedule adjusted right away.” She turned towards Katniss and said, “Don’t you worry, dear.  You are in very good hands here.”

 

Katniss shook her head knowingly at Peeta before answering, “I don’t doubt it at all.”

 

For several minutes, Peeta scanned the road as Thresh wove skillfully through LA traffic. The car was eerily silent, everyone’s attention trained on what they couldn’t see taking place outside of the car.  Thresh confirmed that the car still followed them.  Effie glanced quickly around her but to her credit, her movements fluttered to a stop and she simply stared out the window, as if the answers to her dilemmas would materialize there.

 

As they neared the exit, a police car joined the traffic.

 

“Dammit!  Why didn’t they send an unmarked car?” Peeta said angrily.  “Idiots!”

 

Thresh turned his head slightly.  “He’s still tailing us.”

 

“Yeah, we’ll see for how long,” Peeta said in annoyance, wishing he was alone and driving. He would have put an end to this game of chicken a long time ago.  As he predicted, the black truck slowly drifted into a turn lane and as smoothly as any other driver trying to get to somewhere, he  turned down a side street as they took the entry lane onto the highway.  

 

“He’s gone,” Peeta said, “Fucking police.” He glanced at the three ladies in the car and tipped his head.  “Sorry.”

 

“No worries,” Katniss said. Prim rested her head on her sister’s shoulder, relief evident in every muscle in her body.  But Katniss continued to stare out the window, her face hard, and Peeta understood her completely. He had already tired of the tension and had only lived with it for two months. Katniss was going on a year, and he could only imagine that the situation was sufficient to fray her nerves.  

 

**XXXXX**

 

When they arrived on the premises, Peeta made all the necessary phone calls while Katniss, Prim, Madge, and Johanna disappeared to her room.  A debriefing by the police revealed that the car was stopped and the driver questioned.  His name was cross-referenced with the list of Katniss’ associates but there was no match.   According to the report, the driver had explained that he had not been consciously following Katniss’ car and was on his way to meet a friend but had gotten lost.  They got a description of the youth to keep on file but otherwise, there was nothing to be done.  

 

As the day wound to a close, Peeta’s frustration reached a boiling point. He went for a run and came back for a shower.  A glance in Katniss’ bedroom window showed that she was still awake and likely seeking her comfort from her sister and her friends.  Reclining in the living room chair of the guest house, still wound up as tightly as a coil, Peeta took a long drag of a frigid beer, ice still clinging in small shards to the moist outside of the bottle and thought about her in the multi-colored dress, how relaxed and happy she’d been and how sad it was that she likely didn’t feel that way now.

 

Surfing the channels, he came upon the music on demand channel and out of curiosity or longing, he selected the video for the song Katniss had sung today during the filming of Flickerman’s interview.  He settled back as her voice filled the suite, and Peeta couldn’t help but think of her again, the way the dress had shimmered over her hips and clung slightly to her calves.  

 

The video itself was sensual - candle lit rooms and Katniss, wearing a long, black dress, the material transparent along the sides as if it was painted onto her naked skin.  Peeta thought wickedly that she probably hadn’t worn panties when she put that dress on, and the thought of it made him harden painfully.  He shoved aside the towel he still wore after his shower, his cock springing turgid and free from its constraints.

 

The words of the song drifted in and out of his mind, the only thing he was truly aware of was the way Katniss now lay in a bed, holding herself as a lover would while she sang to him, perhaps in that moment of surrender, when the lover would nudge her legs apart, and settle between them,

 

_Now you're here like you've been before_

_And you know just what I need_

_It took some time for me to see_

_You give good love to me, Baby_

 

Peeta stroked himself, his erection so hard, he almost jumped at his own touch.  He suddenly became that lover, holding her in his silken embrace as he kissed her, sinking deeply into her, feeling her surround him with her wet heat.  He gasped as his hand imitated the plunging of his cock inside of her, watching as her grey eyes smoked with lust and desire.  He was speeding up his movements but only music fell from her mouth - beautiful, sensual music.  She pulled her dress down over her shoulders, exposing her breasts to his hungry mouth.

 

He plunged faster into his fantasy as his hand rolled over his hard cock, the barely dressed image on the television, singing, oblivious to the growing frenzy of him stroking himself.  All the tension, the fear, frustration, and desire concentrated itself in a point as the music broke over him at the same time as his orgasm, his release scalding him as it spread over his belly.  He squeezed his eyes shut to get himself back to his own time and place, the music fading quietly, Katniss’s image dissolving like the slowing of his speeding heart until Peeta was left alone, the object of his every waking thought so close and yet as good as a million miles away.  His nightmares were unpredictable at this point, shuttling between losing Finnick and losing Katniss. But not only loss. He had other dreams, visions of indescribable happiness somehow connected to her.  The hopes that lived in his dreams were held at bay by the realities of his waking life.  A part of him wondered if it wasn’t safer for the both of them if he never bridged that gap.

 

**XXXXX**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to heat up next chapter! Thanks to everyone for their review and comments! I appreciate you all so much :). A million thanks to bubblegum1425 and katnisdoesnotfollowback for their betaing magic! You are the best!


	8. Part 7

**_There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of_ **

**_Looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above_ **

**_Ooh I lose control, can't seem to get enough_ **

**_When I wake from dreaming, tell me is it really love_ **

 

**_-from_ ** **How Will I Know _by Whitney Houston_**

 

**Peeta**

 

When Peeta woke, he had a brief, delicious feeling of happiness somehow related to Katniss.  The feeling was so unexpected and sweet, he clung to it for a few more moments before the sun and his buzzing alarm clock demanded a return to reality.  Groaning, he rose to face another day of mystery and frustration.

 

He could not resign himself to the idea that the man following Katniss’ limousine was not connected to her stalker.  He wracked his mind for various scenarios that would accommodate a stalker that was at once known and unknown to Katniss.  A person she’d met but didn’t remember any longer?  Perhaps he was an acquaintance who was not on the list, unmemorable to her but completely captivated by the idea of Katniss and content to cause her terror?  The other option was that the would-be criminal was someone Katniss truly did not know and that somehow Peeta had made the wrong call.  The idea that someone they had no clue about could pounce on a moment of weakness at any time and hurt Katniss made Peeta virtually sick to his stomach.

 

Among the many calls he’d made was one to Darius.  Officer Cartwright could not reveal the name of the man stopped in the car yesterday because he had not committed any prosecutable crimes.  But Peeta had to know and he knew his friend, with time, would get the information he needed.

 

He’d barely finished knotting his tie when he heard a knock at the door.  Opening it, Peeta was shocked to see Katniss standing at his threshold.

                                                          

“Katniss!” he exclaimed.

 

She shook her head but said nothing.  Her hair was brushed out to her waist and hung in a dark cascade behind her. She still wore her pajamas, those accursed shorts that were just short of nothing.  But it was her expression that drew his attention - profoundly disturbed, close to shattering. The misery he saw on her face was almost unbearable.

 

After some hesitation, she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest.   Her weight rested against him, as if he were the only thing propping her up.  He caught the faint scent of her shampoo, maybe her face cream, and the more distinct, heady aroma that he had come to associate with Katniss.

 

He brought his arms around her and hugged her back, relief flooding his body. She filled him with every kind of anxiety but she also had the power to soothe those anxieties away with a touch. He felt like he could come to rest against her also, the way she now leaned into him.  This power she had over him was frightening.

 

But the need to comfort her won out over all his other instincts. He ran his hand over her hair, carding his fingers through the thick, straight strands.  His knuckles ghosted over her shoulders and back, his touch becoming more insistent the more he felt her relax under his attention. He looked over her shoulder to observe the big house, wondering who might already be awake and pulled her gently inside, closing the door from prying eyes.

 

She clung for several more minutes before she spoke.

 

“I don’t know what’s real or what’s not real anymore,” she muttered miserably.  “Am I really being stalked?  Is it someone I know?  An obsessed fan?  Or is it all in my head?” She leaned back to look up at him, and he saw the insomnia in the dark circles under her eyes. “I’m so tired, Peeta.  I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

Peeta cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her cheek.  “Every move that creep makes, we get one step closer to him. There is no question that car was following us, regardless of what the detectives say.”  He thought of his conversation with Darius last night and mentally crossed his fingers. “It’ll be okay.”

Katniss sighed against his hand, leaning into the pressure of his palm against her cheek. “The girls...Madge, Johanna, Prim...they tried to comfort me. But…” She stuttered, her breath shaky.  Peeta tried to shush her gently but she pushed on.  “I...they couldn’t do it...I need...I need you, Peeta.”

Peeta felt a sudden rush of blood to his head and thought his legs would buckle.  She didn’t wait for his reaction but stepped towards him, her arms clasping him to her again.  He didn’t have the strength or the will to tear himself away from her, even though a voice in the unwanted corner of his mind screamed at him, the voice that always said _No!  Don’t! You don’t deserve that_. A voice as old as time, the one that sounded like his mother, the one that told him that the life he lived did not belong to him.

But he drew a heavy mental curtain over that ghoul and swept Katniss up into his arms instead, carrying her to the sofa. She gasped in surprise, but settled quickly into his embrace.  When he laid her down, she reached out to him and pulled him towards her, kissing him with such heat that he groaned against her.  

“Katniss…”

“Don’t…” she whispered, her fingers creeping up into his blond curls, which now just skimmed the edge of his shirt collar. “You’ll just get all _reasonable_ and make me change my mind.”  

He wanted to protest - they had a schedule to keep, the premises were so full of people. Effie, Haymitch, Gale, Madge, Johanna, Prim, Thresh, Brutus, on and on in endless parade of demands, opinions, competing needs, and judgements. But in his small guest house, with Katniss still fragrant with the smell of sleep, her hair fanned loosely behind her, and her fingers massaging his scalp, the only part of the world that mattered to him was the place where her lips met his.  He stopped trying to reason it through and fell into her in every possible way, the force of his kisses pressing her back onto the cushions of the sofa.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, raining kisses down her neck and shoulders. “I thought you were alright. I thought the girls were taking care of you.”

 

Katniss writhed against him, her fingers snaking their way through his hair and down the starched collar of his dress shirt. “They tried.  But they can’t make me feel safe,” she gasped as he moved the strap of her tank top off her shoulder to nip at the soft skin there.  She pulled his head up so she could look him directly in the eye.  “Only you can give me that,” she said breathlessly. “Only you can make me feel safe.”

 

“Katniss…” he groaned, capturing her lips again, trying to kiss her fear and vulnerability away.  When they’d left each other breathless, he said, “You only had to call me, don’t you know that?” He spoke fiercely, trying to convince her.  “You have me at your feet.”

 

It was then that she gave him the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen, luminous with relief, happiness, and something else he recognized but didn’t want to acknowledge.  Because he felt the same thing he saw written on her face and if he started down that path, if he gave into that and told her just how much she’d rooted herself in his heart, he’d never have the strength to turn away from her again.  

 

When he kissed her again, there was still the unmistakeable heat of lust and desire but there was also a hesitant tenderness. He covered her face with small kisses, each left with such reverence, a small sob escaped her throat.  When his hands touched her, they were gentle, as if her body would break if he was too rough.  He didn’t want to just have sex withher, though there was that too. He wanted to make love to her until he had convinced her that she could no longer be without him. He saw his need reflected back to him in her eyes and it took his breath away, for he feared that she would sense the force of it and be frightened away by it.

 

A sharp knock at the door sliced through the moment like a sharp blade.  Their lips jerked apart as the pounding became more insistent and soon, Gale’s voice could be heard shouting from outside.

 

“Peeta!  Open up!” he pounded again.  

 

Peeta leapt up, straightening his clothes, running a nervous hand through his hair as Katniss sat up, pulling up the straps of her tank top.

 

“Don’t make a sound,” he said quietly, tugging at a throw blanket on the back of the sofa and deftly unfolding it, covering her in it.  “I’ll get rid of him.”

 

“Okay,” Katniss said, her hair in disarray and her skin still flushed from their moment together.  Peeta found her nearly irresistible and had to repress the urge to return to her and finish what they’d started, Gale be damned.

 

“Peeta!” Gale shouted now.

 

“Alright already!  I’m coming!” Peeta responded, not even attempting to hide his irritation with the interruption.  He pulled the door open impatiently.

 

“What the hell?” Gale exclaimed as he pushed past Peeta.  “You’re always up with the larks and today of all days, you decide to sleep in?”

 

“What is so important that you…?” Peeta started but Gale cut him off.

 

“Katniss is missing.  Prim went to find her this morning, and she wasn’t in bed.”

 

“Maybe...she’s taking a bath?” Peeta said sheepishly, fearing his dishonesty was completely transparent.

 

“Yeah, nobody thought of that,” Gale bit out sarcastically.  “Of course we checked the bathrooms, _and_ the studio, _and_ the swimming pool, the gym...we’ve been everywhere!  Prim is having a nervous breakdown and would have called the police already but she’s waiting to hear from you.”

 

“I’m glad you waited for me,” Peeta said, at a loss for how to extricate himself from this situation.

 

“Well, if we don’t find her soon…” Gale started.

 

“It’s okay,” came Katniss’ voice from behind Peeta’s shoulder.  She walked up with the throw blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.  “I came to see Peeta this morning since we didn’t get a chance to debrief last night.” Katniss smoothed down her rumpled waves, her fingers dancing nervously as they went, and Peeta groaned inwardly.  As capable as Katniss was at projecting her “celebrity persona” to the world, she was completely incapable of telling even a polite lie.  Peeta fleetingly thought it was better she’d become a singer because she’d never make it as an actress.  They weren’t fooling anyone, with their wrinkled clothes, swollen lips, and glassy eyes, still smoldering with the embers of their desire.  “I thought I could...talk to him…before everyone woke up,” she finished awkwardly, not quite meeting her friend’s penetrating stare.

Gale eye’s widened at the sight of her, then went narrow with suspicion.  “You’ve been here all this time? It’s barely 8 o’clock? What time did you…?” but Gale let the words trail off, his hands on his hips as he dropped his head and laughed, a slightly maniacal laugh that made Peeta’s back stiffen with irritation.

 

“What’s so funny?” Peeta spat.

 

“Awww, wait. Come here, Catnip.” Gale pulled Katniss towards him and gave her a bear hug. “You scared the shit out of me, after that business with the car yesterday.  You better go calm Prim down. She’s freaking out. She thinks the stalker came and kidnapped you.”

 

“Okay,” she said, eyeing him warily but smiling all the same. “I’m so sorry I scared everyone,  
She looked back over her shoulder at Peeta. “I’ll bring the throw blanket back...later.”

 

 _Later_.  It made Peeta’s stomach leap with excitement at the promise of those words. “No problem.  It...it was good...talking to you…”

 

Katniss smirked at him, eyes twinkling with mirth as she stepped out the door and hurried up the walk towards the main house.

 

“ _Good talking to you, huh_?” Gale chuckled.  “You’re a real smooth guy there, Mellark,” he teased as he turned to take the same path as Katniss.  “Regular ladies’ man.”

 

“Fuck off,” Peeta muttered under his breath, hurrying to straighten himself before heading up to the big house himself. He didn’t like the way Gale had held Katniss, didn’t enjoyed being laughed at,but most of all, he hated the implication of Gale’s parting comment to him. Gale saw him as a guy who was just trying to get into Katniss’ pants. The thought that Peeta could ever see her in that way annoyed and humiliated him more than anything else. He wasn’t sure what it all meant, but he knew one thing for certain - he wanted more from Katniss than just a one night stand.

 

**XXXXX**

 

He didn’t see her alone that day or the next after that. Katniss was putting the final touches on her tour preparations. In addition, she was the star performer for the Museum of Modern Art Gala and, according to what he had overheard Haymitch saying, she was performing a new song, which was unheard of at such a venue. Singers went with favorites to ensure the patrons were pleased and did not usually risk a new song.

 

“But this song is so good, it’s going to floor them,” Haymitch had said proudly, clearly anticipating another round of praise for “Sweetheart,” as he referred to her, clucking around her like a taciturn father.  Katniss had once referred to him as only her employee but it was clear that their feelings and consideration for each other was more like a goose protecting his young.  In fact, Katniss was tough to get close to and diffident towards almost everyone. But once you were accepted, you were family and Haymitch was at the head of the roost.  

 

This was never clearer than with Boggs, whose vacancy had been responsible for Peeta being hired on. He spoke to Katniss regularly, keeping her informed of his mother’s illness and she of the general goings on in her compound.

 

“You take all the time you need,” Peeta heard Katniss tell Boggs the day before Tristan’s birthday party. They were backstage at another interview and she’d taken the call in the middle of prep, much to Effie’s chagrin.

 

“We’re keeping you in our thoughts.  You just take care of your family and come back whenever you’re ready.  Peeta’s holding down the fort just fine.” She glanced up at him and gave him that secret look she reserved only for him when she thought no one was looking.  When she did that, it made him ache for her even more, since it had been a few days since they had had more than five minutes alone.  He tried not to think of what Bogg’s return might mean for him.

 

When she ended the call, she tugged at Peeta’s lapel, pulling him close to her.  “You know, sometimes you have the best poker face and sometimes, you show everything you’re thinking.”

 

Peeta smiled, his heart skipping a beat from the pressure of her hand on his chest. “I’ll have to work on that,” he said with a smirk, staring obsessively at her mouth and wishing he could kiss her again.

 

“Like now,” she whispered, bringing her lips close to his ear. “You want to kiss me.”

 

Peeta chuckled, dropping his head in mock shame though he felt himself blush all the way to his ears. “It’s official. You’re a mind reader,” he looked away again, wondering what else his face had revealed to her.

 

“And you’re also scared Boggs will come back and replace you,” she said. Peeta’s head snapped up to catch her expression, which was no longer playful.  She had hit the mark so hard, he didn’t know what to say.

 

Glancing to see that they were momentarily alone, Katniss wound her arms around his neck. She was now so near to him, he could see the texture of her blush.

 

“Am I right?” she probed.   He let his hands land lightly on her hips, revelling in the feel of her sinewy muscles shifting beneath her dress.  

 

“Maybe,” he said.  “Maybe you don’t need two heads of security.”

 

“No, I don’t suppose I do,” she said as she ran a hand over his clean-shaven cheek. “But I couldn’t replace you anymore than I could replace my sister,” she said with such sincerity, he wanted to scoop her up and dash away somewhere with her.  

 

“If you keep that up,” he said huskily, “I’ll kiss you right here, right now and smudge your makeup.”

 

“Katniss!” Effie’s voice came from down the long corridor.  

 

“Dammit,” Katniss said under her breath. Reluctantly, they pulled apart but not before Katniss whispered her response, “I’m going to cash in on that kiss later on.”

 

“We’re not getting a whole lot of alone time lately,” Peeta groused as he arranged his features in preparation for Effie’s arrival.

 

“No, none at all. But tomorrow’s Saturday.” Her grey eyes twinkled. “And I’ve been invited to a birthday party.”

 

“Yeah, nothing like a crowd of nine-year olds to set the perfect romantic tone,” he quipped as Effie burst in to escort Katniss onto stage but not before Katniss dissolved into peals of laughter, earning a scolding from Effie for almost ruining her makeup.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta checked everything at least a dozen times, so much so that Gale appeared to finally reach his limit.

 

“If you check that alarm one more time…” he said menacingly.

 

“Alright. Fine,” Peeta said, wiping his hands on his jeans, his crisp, blue-grey t-shirt sleeves straining against his biceps.  He’d opted for kid friendly attire for his excursion to Tristan’s party today, knowing he’d be covered in something or the other by the end of the day.  “You know how to reach me if anything…”

 

“Dude,” Gale snapped.  “Look, I got the easy part.  This house is locked up tighter than the Federal Reserve. You’re real challenge is trying to control her…” He gestured towards the house,  where Katniss was getting ready. “Trust me, she’s her own worst enemy sometimes.”

 

“She’ll be alright,” Peeta said, as much to convince himself as to convince Gale.  

 

Gale became serious, clapping a hand on Peeta’s shoulder. “You suck. You know that?”

 

“Thanks, I think,” Peeta said warily, tensing under Gale’s less than gentle touch.

 

“No, seriously, you suck on so many levels but one thing I am convinced of is that if there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s you.  She’s all lit up like a Christmas tree because she’s getting out of here.” Gale furrowed his brow, looking again in the direction of her house. “We’ve been friends a long time, not just her but our families also.  We’ve always been tight.  She’s famous and all but she’s the least celebrity celebrity you’ll ever meet.  It hasn’t gone to her head, you know?”  Peeta did know, remembering all the times Katniss had defied his expectations and failed to act like the diva he had thought she was.  

 

Gale turned back to glare at Peeta before speaking again as his grip on Peeta’s shoulder became vice-like.  “We hunted together when our fathers died.  I watched her keep shit together when her mother checked out for two years from her depression.”  Peeta felt each of Gale’s sentences like a blow to his stomach.  

 

“She loves to sing but the business end, you know, the money-making side?  I swear, if you ask her right now what it’s all worth, she’ll tell you the only good thing about having so much money is that her sister never has to want for anything again. That’s her mentality,” he said, pointing to his temple.  “In her mind, she’s doing all this to take care of the one person she loves the most in this world.  The fame, the clothes, the parties, and fans - it doesn’t mean a thing to her.”  Gale’s scowl intensified, and Peeta couldn’t help but think that Gale would have made an excellent soldier.  

 

“You keep her safe, not just from her stalker, but also from yourself,” Gale said, confirming Peeta’s observation that he and Katniss had not been able to conceal their feelings from him  “Hurt her and I don’t care how many belts and shit you have.  Don’t treat her like anything less than who she is. You got that, boss?”

 

Peeta grimaced when Gale finally let go and made to walk off, flexing and unflexing his hand in a nervous tic. “If you think so much of her, why aren’t you with her?” he blurted out.  The question had weighed heavily on his mind almost since the first day he’d arrived.

 

Gale chuckled. “I tried for about five minutes. That’s not how it is between us. Anyway,” he smirked at Peeta. “Madge might have something to say about all that if I tried for Catnip again.”

 

“I didn’t...I’m sorry,” Peeta stammered.

 

“You weren’t supposed to know. That’s the point, right?” Gale laughed turning towards the house. “Nice talking to you, asshole,” he tossed over his shoulder as made his way up the walk.

 

“Right,” Peeta muttered to himself, his mind full of the new insights his conversation with Gale had given him.  But all was forgotten when Katniss bounded down the main steps of the house.  He couldn’t help but recall the almost gaudy makeup and leather boots from that night she performed at The Hob.  She still had an air of glamour around her - years and years in the spotlight had conditioned her to fame, and it radiated from her in the effortless way she moved towards him, her hair bound in her trademark braid when she was not performing, a deep green cotton shirt with long sleeves and v-neck, with a small pendant hanging in the valley of her breasts.  She wore faded, straight-leg jeans and open-toed espadrilles with an array of colors that included the one of her shirt. She looked young, fresh, and radiant, and Peeta had to make an extra effort to concentrate on speech.

 

He was so caught up by her appearance that he did not notice the large shopping bag she carried until she handed it to him.  

 

“This might fit better in the trunk,” she said.  

 

Peeta was impressed by the heaviness of the bag.  “What’s in here?” he asked.

 

Katniss cast a glance at the package, her eyes twinkling in delight. “It’s a remote-controlled helicopter. I didn’t know what kind of toys he likes but all boys like cars and helicopters.  I figured I couldn’t go wrong.”

 

“Good call,” he said, opening the trunk to place the bag inside.  “He’s going to love it.”  Katniss peeked over his shoulder as he did so.

 

“What’s that?” she asked as she pointed to a medium-sized box wrapped in birthday-themed gift wrap.

 

“A train set.  He collects trains, and I add a piece to his set each time I visit. It’s his birthday, so he gets a depot.”

 

“That sounds like a fancy set!” Katniss exclaimed.  

 

“It’s a collectible model.  He’s such a good kid,” Peeta said with pride.  “He takes care of that set better than most adults would.  He’s very meticulous and organized and knows where every piece is.”

 

Katniss wore an expression of tenderness as she watched him speak.  “He sounds a lot like his uncle.  Maybe it’s in the blood?”

 

Peeta felt a pang in his heart when she said that, realizing he hadn’t told her about the circumstances of Tristan’s presence in his life.  As he opened the door for Katniss, he thought of how much Tristan looked like Finnick and had his same solar character - talkative, bright, social, and generally of a happy disposition.  Peeta had been like that,too, before Finnick had been killed and he suddenly missed Finnick so powerfully, he felt it like a stone dropping in his stomach.  

 

“Are you okay?” Katniss said with concern. “You look like you just lost your best friend.”

 

Peeta gasped, convinced that Katniss really could read his mind.  “Maybe I did, and I’m not over it yet,” he muttered somberly before forcing a smile on his face.  He steeled himself for what he had to say.  “Tristan,” he said as he put the car in gear and pulled out of the garage and drove down the cobblestone driveway to the main gate that would lead them to the road. “He is actually my best friend’s son.”

 

“Oh,” Katniss said, the curiosity evident in that one word.

 

“Finnick,” Peeta’s voice caught, unaccustomed as he was to hear his name spoken out loud unless it was in the context of his conversations with Annie.  “That’s Tristan’s dad. We grew up in the same town and were in the same army unit together in Afghanistan.  We were best friends.  When we were on leave, he always brought me home with him to see Annie, his wife, and their family.”  Peeta glanced over at Katniss, who was hanging on his every word.

 

“My family life was...less than ideal so I appreciated being with them. They’re a typical, happy Irish bunch.” Peeta took a deep breath, realizing that today would make no sense to Katniss if he didn’t tell her the truth.

 

“When Tristan was four months old, our Command Post came under attack. Finnick was...he was shot.” He took another deep, steadying breath and felt Katniss’ hand on top of his as he shifted gears. “He hadn’t even gotten to see Tristan yet.  And then he was gone.  Just...gone.  So I kind of adopted Tristan.  He _is_ , for all intents and purposes, my nephew.  I try to be a father figure to him, but I could never be Finnick. No one,” he said with husky voice full of emotion. “No one could ever be Finnick.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Katniss said and he realized he’d brought her to tears.  She sniffled, wiping them away from her with the back of her hand. “I’m so careless. I made that stupid best friend comment…”

 

Peeta slowed down the car and pulled over on the grassy shoulder. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turned to her. “Hey, you couldn’t have known!” He pulled her as best he could towards him.  “This wasn’t my intention. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

 

“No!” Katniss said, pulling out a handkerchief from her bag.  “Don’t go apologizing.” She looked up at him with eyes wide as saucers. “Thank you...for sharing that with me…”  She wiped at her nose and put the soft cloth away in her bag.  “I’ll try not to blubber away for the rest of the trip.”

 

Peeta laughed, pulling her face towards his. “I don’t care. You’re beautiful when you get all teary and bougary.”

 

Katniss burst out into sudden laughter.  Peeta loved the sound and couldn’t resist pulling her in for a kiss, her laughter dying in his mouth. Soon the kiss became heated, setting them both on fire.  When they separated, they were both searching for breath.

 

Turning toward the steering wheel, Peeta pulled the car onto the highway, compulsively looking at his watch.  “Come on,” he said. “We have a party to get to.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta pulled onto the familiar street, now lined with cars.  Balloons festooned the mailbox and were wrapped like vines around the columns.  Even four houses away, Peeta could hear the music and the noise. Normally, in any other neighborhood, a spectacle of the sort would be completely unacceptable. But here, on Annie’s street, it was most likely that even the neighbors were at the party, so he was sure there would be no complaints about noise and congestion. He smiled to himself - the place would be packed with Odairs and Crestas, Annie’s family. Even though it wasn’t his given family, this was the closest thing to home he had ever known.

 

When they’d parked, Katniss took in the scene. She looked at Peeta with mischief in her eyes.  “Looks like a regular block party.”

 

“Yeah, Annie sends out invites but three times as many people usually show up,” he smiled, feeling more like himself than he had in months.  “Are you worried about people?  The minute you feel uncomfortable…”

 

“No, I planned for everything.”  She opened her giant bag and pulled out a smaller plastic one.  “I brought my disguise.” She whipped out an auburn-colored, medium-length wig with bangs.  “I happen to have the best costume designer on the planet.” She affixed the top over her natural hair, obscuring every last strand. She’d plaited her braid flat and now he understood why as she tucked it carefully under the thick hair of the wig.

 

With a brush and a teaser comb, Katniss suddenly became another woman. She pulled out glasses that had a darkened lense but were not sunglasses.  “They darken outdoors and lighten inside. Voila!” she turned towards him with a certain flair, “Now I look like the school librarian.”

 

Peeta reached out to touch the hair and was shocked to find it felt just like real hair.  “Is it…”

 

“Oh, yeah. Cinna only uses real hair in his wigs. Makes them crazy expensive but they look completely natural.” She turned towards him, her layers flying naturally about her face. “Do you approve?”

 

He shook his head, still shocked by the transformation. “Yeah, I mean, you look like a totally different person but...” He leaned in closer, staring into her clear grey eyes that were unmistakable, no matter what outfit she used, “I’ll always prefer the original, if you don’t mind.”

 

“So do I,” she said as she gathered her things and stuffed them in the bag.  “By the way, my name is Kat.  Katniss is not the most common name in the world.”

 

“Yes, boss,” he said, kissing her one more time before getting out to pull the bags from the trunk. Shutting the car door behind her, he stopped her. “Thank you for this.”

 

Katniss squeezed his hand. “No, thank you.”  She took his hand, and a thrill ran through Peeta.  As she smiled up at him, her birthday present for Tristan gripped in her hand, for a boy she didn’t even know, Peeta couldn’t help but think how much Finnick would have loved her.  

 

He could just imagined the teasing and taunts his best friend would have given them both, probably trying to get Katniss to admit that her auburn wig had nothing on his own copper locks.  The ache in Peeta’s heart grew stronger as he imagined Finn laughing at whatever sassy reply Katniss would come up with.  Peeta felt his best friend so near to him as they approached the door, he was almost sure Finnick would come bounding down the steps, feeling sick with himself as his heart involuntarily sank when only Annie and Tristan greeted him instead.

 

**XXXXX**

**Many thanks to my wonderful betas, bubblegum1425 and katnissdoesnotfollowback. The action starts to really pick up starting the next chapter as we head towards the end of this story! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**


	9. Part 8

**_From the moment I saw you_ **

**_I went outta my mind_ **

**_Though I never believed in, love at first sight_ **

**_But you got a magic_ **

**_That I just can't explain_ **

**_Well you got a, you got a way that you make me feel_ **

**_I can do, I can do anything for you baby_ **

**_I'll be down for you baby_ **

**_Lay all my cards out tonight_ **

**_Just call on me baby_ **

**_I'll be there in a hurry_ **

**_It's your move, so baby_ **

**_Baby decide_ **

**-from _I’m Your Baby Tonight_ by Whitney Houston**

**Katniss**

Katniss hadn’t known what to expect, but it was not the middle-class neighborhood with modest, colonial style homes centered on wide tracts of land. Some were framed by white picket fences, lawns littered with children's swing sets, discarded bicycles, skateboards, and toys.  Along the street where Peeta turned, parked cars lined both sides, probably the guests who were present for the festivities. When the car finally stopped, they found themselves before a house festooned with balloons coiled around the columns of the wrap-around balcony and an enormous bunch tied to the mailbox.  

Katniss was simultaneously excited and terrified, not of the guests, but of coming off as aloof. She wasn’t good with new people and was generally slow to warm up, but she wanted very much to impress.  In every way that mattered, these were Peeta’s people, and she wanted them to like her.  She wanted them to be happy with her.

She wanted Peeta to be happy with her.  

Katniss hugged herself as Peeta maneuvered his tiny car into a space between two larger SUVs, her stomach twisted in knots.  She didn’t dare glance at Peeta.  He was always so impeccably dressed - suit, tie, and earpiece were his standard wardrobe. But when she made her way down the walk of her house that morning and caught her first sight of him in jeans and a t-shirt, she thought she’d faint from her heart banging so hard in her chest.  She didn’t think he could look better than in a suit, but he had proven her wrong.

Katniss made sure to fix her disguise in place. When Peeta pulled her out of the car, he gripped her hand. “Thank you for this,” he whispered, leaving her heart somewhere in her throat from the sensation of his skin against hers.

“No, thank you,” she said, smiling up at him. She was rewarded with a brightening of Peeta’s face, though for a moment, she thought he became lost in a memory, his expression tinted with an edge of sadness.

The front door of the house opened and out barreled a young boy with thick, copper hair, flopping in the wind as he ran.  Katniss glanced up at Peeta to see the clouds disappear, and his face split into a wide grin.  He crouched, ready to catch the boy as he stumbled on the sidewalk to get to Peeta.

“Peeta!” the boy shouted, his impossibly green eyes alight with that undisguised happiness only children could achieve.  

“Trist---oof!” Peeta barely completed the child’s name when the boy leapt onto him.  They laughed as Peeta hoisted him up into the air, grunting at the child’s weight as he set him down again.

“Annie! What are you feeding him?” Peeta laughed, ruffling the boy’s hair as he spoke to a diminutive woman of about thirty with brown hair and sea green eyes that were softer in tone compared to the brilliant color of her son’s.  She had a somewhat bedraggled look about her which Katniss completely understood, given the rambunctious boy bounding around Peeta like a giant puppy.

“He’s in the middle of a growth spurt and is eating everything in sight.  Watch out that he doesn’t eat you too!” she exclaimed, giving Peeta a warm hug and kiss before turning towards Katniss.

“I’m Annie. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She offered her hand to Katniss, smiling welcomingly at her.

“I’m...Kat...Peeta’s friend.” She took the lovely woman’s hand, shaking it.  “Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, I was so excited when Peeta asked to bring a friend along,” Annie answered, her eyes without guile and full of kindness.  Katniss had a weakness for kind people. They tended to root themselves in her heart, and she found it difficult to tear them out again. She was instantly drawn to Annie.

Tristan, meanwhile, overcame his initial excitement at Peeta’s arrival to attend to matters of more immediate importance.  “Are those my gifts?” he asked, indicating the bag and the box Peeta carried.  

“Tristan!  You’re not supposed to ask for gifts, even on your birthday,” Annie said in exasperation.  Peeta, however, laughed as he handed the packages to her safekeeping, scooping Tristan up again and turning him upside down. Over the boy’s squeals of delight, Peeta said, “You’re just going to have to wait, aren’t you?”  

Katniss had to take a step back to absorb the change that had come over Peeta. He had laughed more in ten minutes than in all the months he’d worked with her.  She was stunned by the transformation.  Gone was the fierce, impassive man who measured his life in schedules and appointments, trusted no one, and assessed everyone on the basis of what kind of threat they could represent. In the space of twenty four hours, she’d seen an entirely different Peeta - passionate and funny with her, loving and playful with Tristan and Annie.  

She wondered what else he was hiding beneath his ultra-professional exterior.  She thought of how her opinion of him had changed since the first time she’d met him, how insufferable he was to her then, versus now, where more than her physical well-being depended on him.

“Kat?” Peeta asked and she realized he’d been talking to her. “Ready?”

“Yes!” she responded with embarrassment as Annie and Tristan headed inside the house.   “Let’s get this party started!”

**XXXXX**

Music floated in the air as they moved throughout the modest but impeccably furnished house, led by Annie and Tristan.  Katniss soon realized the party was for the adults as well as for the children. Though Tristan was determined to monopolize his uncle, Peeta was attentive, even downright possessive as he introduced Katniss to the many cousins, friends, and relatives who were present for the festivities.

“Sadie is the wife of Finnick’s second cousin on his mother’s side,” came Peeta’s familiar refrain as Katniss tried to make sense of the intricate genealogy into which she’d been plunged. Annie had gone to the back yard to check on the barbecue that was being manned by another fifteenth degree cousin or the other.

“How do you keep them all straight?” Katniss laughed, swaying, ironically to one of her songs as Peeta brought her drinks.

“I’ve either grown up or deployed with almost everybody here.” Peeta’s eyes twinkled as he spoke and Katniss could not help but shake her head.  “Nice song,” he teased.

 

“Yeah, it’s a damned good song but I heard the singer’s a pain in the ass,” she answered.

 

“It’s true,” Peeta bantered, to which Katniss gave him her most ferocious scowl.

“Here you go.” Annie appeared with plates laden down with hot dogs, burgers, and potato salad - essentially, everything that a child would enjoy eating on his birthday.

“Thank you!” Katniss said with surprise.  “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself.”

“Oh, if I didn’t get something for you both now, you wouldn’t have gotten anything to eat.  The kids are swarming over it, picking the tables and barbecue clean,” Annie said, leading them out to a small table on the porch.  “Sit, while you have the chance!” she laughed happily. “If you want healthy, Peeta, I think there’s a leaf of lettuce and some celery in there somewhere.”

“Thank you,” Katniss said, gratefully taking the hot plate.  “He’s more careful about his diet than I am,” she teased as she watched Peeta arrange his plate so that nothing was touching.  Both Annie and Katniss exchanged a knowing look when he began to eat at the top, staring at him as he worked methodically from one to three o’clock on his plate.  He looked up at them when they both dissolved into laughter at the same time.

“What?” Peeta asked when he’d swallowed his bite.

“You don’t change,” Annie giggled.

“You always eat that way. Anyone paying attention to you would figure it out,” Katniss added.

Peeta blushed, looking from Annie and Katniss to his plate before shrugging. “It’s a thing I have.”

Annie reached her hand over and patted Peeta reassuringly.  “It’s cute.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.” Turning towards Katniss, Annie’s eyes danced happily. “I see you don’t have the same problem,” she quipped as Katniss poured the contents of her ketchup packet onto everything she saw.

“I’m the complete opposite in everything. He’s neat and organized, and I toss everything in a different spot every day.  He loves routines; I find them stifling.” Katniss smiled as Peeta looked at her from under his lovely, long lashes, the mirth evident in his eyes also.  “He dresses like a lawyer, and I dress like a cheap rock star.”

Peeta guffawed as Annie looked on in confusion. “But you look so good?  Where’s your leather and boots then?”

“Oh, I only wear those on Tuesdays and Thursdays, isn’t that right, Peeta?” she teased as she nibbled on a pickle.  “You can eat the pickle too, you know. It’s green and grows from the ground. Just pretend there’s no salt in it.”

“Much obliged,” he said with mock irritation.

When they were done, they watched the kids running around with plates and drinks in hand, loathe to end their activities.  As Annie ate and chatted with Peeta, Katniss took the moment to observe her. There was an airy openness to the small, brown-haired woman that reminded Katniss of fairies and magic pools.  She was clearly intelligent and an attentive host and mother but she also had an otherworldly look about her, of one who seemed to only tolerate the normal world and longed to go elsewhere, as if there were a universe just beyond their senses and Annie was continuously drawn to it.

“Peeta!  Come see my gifts!” Tristan bound towards Peeta and grabbed his hand.

“Tristan, honey, let your uncle rest for a moment,” Annie admonished.

“No, he has to see this!  Come on!”  He dragged Peeta out of his chair and they had no choice but to follow him.  Peeta cast an apologetic glance towards Katniss but she only shrugged and smiled.

“That’s a big haul!” exclaimed Katniss when she saw the table piled high with wrapped presents.

“Yeah, but mom’s not going to let me open them all today,” Tristan said with a huff of exasperation in his voice.

“That makes sense, though.  You have enough here to have a gift each day all the way up to your next birthday,” Peeta said, ruffling the young boy’s hair.

“But I want to know what all I got.  What if I grow up and I’m too old to play with the toys by the time I open them?  That’s just wasting people’s good money and mom says money doesn’t grow on trees.”

“You’re right about the money, Tristan. But you’ll appreciate your gifts a lot more if you don’t open everything at once,” Annie said.

“I don’t know,” Katniss said teasingly. "He's got some pretty good reasoning there.” Tristan smiled brightly at her.

“I knew I was gonna like her!” Tristan said cheekily, to which they all laughed.

“You’re a little too smart for your own good,” Peeta said between chortles of laughter. “Why don’t you go play with your friends a little while your mom and I finish showing Katniss around?”

“Okay, but we’re gonna play Nerf Wars later and you’re going down!” Tristan said, his bravado in complete contrast to his bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Katniss had become convinced that he was a puppy dressed as a child.

“Don’t do that,” Peeta said. “Don’t make me have to destroy you again. Every year, it’s the same thing with you. And every year I have to carry you out,” he said, grabbing the boy and tickling him until he screamed.  “You talk a good game.”

Tristan yelled and laughed until he was breathless.  Other boys came, watching the scene with excitement.  

“Hey, does your uncle want to play Mario Cart?” one of the boys said.

“I think I’ll pass. I have to keep an eye on this one.” Peeta indicated towards Katniss, “Or she’ll eat all the cake.”

“You can go if you want,” she whispered fiercely.

“No, it’s okay. I suck at Mario Cart,” he said in a low voice before turning to Tristan. “Meet me at six o’clock on the dot, ready for battle.”

There were shouts from all around as the boys became excited, then scattered behind Tristan like the Lost Boys escaping after Peter Pan to play on the giant flat screen TV Katniss had seen in the family room. Annie excused herself to attend to the preparations for the birthday cake, leaving them to mill about on their own.

When Annie had left, Peeta pulled Katniss out to the balcony, wrapping her in a sudden hug. He buried his head in her borrowed hair, nestling in the crook of her neck and shoulder. “I want to be alone with you. You want to see Tristan’s train set?” he asked, his breath muffled against the skin of her neck.

Katniss brought her arms up around his shoulders, reveling in his sturdy warmth. “Now that’s a pick-up line I’ve never heard before.”

His shoulders shook as he laughed, his arms tightening reflexively around her waist.  “Is it working?”

“Mmmm,” she hummed contentedly. “I would say it’s working like a charm.”

“Peeta!” came another shout and Katniss felt the slight wave of impatience wash over him as he released her, composing himself before greeting a tall, brown-haired, lanky man in jeans and a casual linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

“Marvel,” Peeta said between gritted teeth, shaking his hand politely. “Kat, Marvel was one of the guys in my company.”

Katniss nodded, smiling in greeting. “A pleasure.”

 

“Pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.” he said, eyeing Katniss carefully, the look in his eyes guarded.  Katniss realized she could not understand this man’s face.  Even Peeta was easier to read. She squirmed under his scrutiny as his gaze intensified.  “You seem familiar,” he asked.

She shrugged, blushing slightly as Peeta squeezed her hand.  “I don’t think so. I guess...I guess I just have that kind of face, that’s all,” she said haltingly, fearing her disguise would fail already.

Marvel shook his head, his eyes lingering over her with appraisal. “With all due respect, Kat, you’re too pretty to forget.”  He chuckled before turning towards Peeta again, and Katniss felt like there was nothing respectful at all about the way he was trying to identify her.

“How many years has it been?” Marvel asked, glancing from time to time at Katniss.

“Since discharge. I’ve been keeping really busy,” Peeta said vaguely, a stone mask like the one Marvel was wearing suddenly dropping over his features.  Marvel quirked his head, a sly smirk emerging on his face.

“Busy?  I heard you were working as a private body guard.  In fact, last Annie mentioned, you were Katniss Everdeen’s head of security. Is that true?”

A look of discomfort passed over Peeta’s face so quickly, Katniss thought she’d imagined it.  “I’ve had some high-profile gigs, and she’s the latest one.”

Marvel whistled, glancing again at Katniss, in a way she didn’t like.  “You’re one lucky bastard.”

“How about you?” Peeta said quickly, pulling Katniss closer to him and placing a protective arm around her shoulder.  “What have you been doing to keep busy?”

“Same as you, though not with such high profile clients. Business men. Some side action on a short term basis.”  He turned his attention to Katniss again, trying not to be obvious about the way he was sizing her up and failing miserably. “What do you do, Kat?”

“I’m a publicist for Ms. Everdeen.” she said coolly, deciding she did not like this person at all and hoping this conversation would come to an end.  A glance at Peeta told her he felt exactly the same way.

“Well, I promised I'd show Kat around,” Peeta said abruptly. “It was nice talking to you.”

Marvel made to speak again but Peeta led Katniss away, rounding a corner toward the back of the house. When they got to the end of the hallway, he pulled her into a small room.  Judging by the boyish decor and the abundance of cars and trains, Katniss guessed it was Tristan’s playroom.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he said as he shut the door behind him.  “He’s lucky we were in a house full of children.”

“No worries. You should see some of the creeps I had to put up with when I first started recording,” Katniss said distractedly, studying the elaborate train set that occupied most of the floor space in the room. “Is this the set you were talking about?” she said in awe. In addition to an intricate system that mimicked the tracks of a railway station, one set of tracks wove their way over the floor and disappeared into a mountain, appearing on the other side to race by a warehouse depot at the edge of a small town.  It was complete with trees and figurines of people in various occupations and activities.  A small airport filled with airplanes rose above the mountain valley and though not to scale with respect to the trains, it was intricate in detail.  

“Peeta, this is amazing!  Look how he has everything in place, all of his trains, his cars…” Tristan had accouterments organized in cubby holes along the wall, including extra tracks, cabooses, cars, trailers - if it was related to the train set, it was stored with utmost care in a specific place.

“Yeah. I started this set when he was born,” Peeta said, his face clouding with memories. He walked over to the bookshelf and picked up a vintage red caboose bearing the shield of Union Pacific Railroad. “This is the first one I bought him. It was at the end of my tour, when he wasn’t even a year old.” He handed it to Katniss.

“It’s beautiful,” she said as she caressed the shiny, cool metal.  “Was this something you liked when you were a kid?”

He nodded. “I loved trains but only got a very few from my parents.”  He let the briefest frown pass over his lips before he continued. “I think, at the time that I bought this, I was trying to figure out a way to really impress this tiny little baby boy and wanted something that would remind him of me when I wasn’t around.”  Peeta’s face darkened again, before asking half-jokingly, “Pretty selfish, huh?”

Katniss set the train down carefully on the bookshelf and took his face in her hands. “I’m starting to think you don’t have a selfish bone in your body, Peeta Mellark. In fact, I bet under all that gruff is a great, big, fluffy cheese bun.”

Peeta’s face twisted in mock astonishment. “Cheese bun?  Not a cinnamon roll or cream puff? Is that because I’m salty?”  He captured Katniss’ hips and pulled her flush against him so that the length of their bodies were pressed against each other.

“Dummy,” Katniss scowled. “Cheese buns are my favorite pastry. I will eat a truck load of cheese buns over cinnamon rolls any day of the week,” she purred, tugging him so that his nose just brushed against hers.

“You’re in luck, you know,” he whispered, the mood suddenly changing as she stared at the way his mouth moved, following his tongue as it darted out to wet his lips.  

“Really?  How?” she asked in a daze.

He smiled, his lips just brushing hers. “Because I make the best cheese buns in all of Panem.”

Katniss’ eyes widened before becoming hooded, her breath bursting out in pants. “Peeta. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fire you now.”

“Then don’t,” he said, barely above a whisper before he pressed against her soft lips, insistent on tasting her mouth.  “Don’t let me go,” he murmured as his lips parted over hers, and she gave in without resistance, eager to take him in, to kiss him while feeling the hard muscles of his back bunch and flex beneath her fingertips.  Her hand slipped behind his head and pulled him towards her, deepening the kiss until she ached with longing in every bone in her body.

When he pulled back, she rested her forehead against his, breathing in his scent as she struggled to return to normal.  Her heart was ready to burst from want and Katniss was sure, if they left the room at that moment, everyone, even the babies, would be able to read the pure need on their faces.  She felt almost feverish and could not recall ever feeling so much fire for someone before.  

She thought back to the morning she’d gone to see him, the way his body had felt moving over hers while they kissed, and she felt the conviction at that moment that he was made to fit with her. She shook those thoughts from her head, convinced that if she walked down that path, she’d never turn back again.  

“I think I vaguely recall a Nerf Battle awaits you at the end of the festivities,” Katniss said as she pulled back, trying to get her thoughts in order again.

Peeta smiled, running a finger over her cheekbone, which did nothing but scramble her thinking even further. “I did promise, didn’t I? Then we’ll go, okay?”

Katniss wrinkled her nose at the prospect of finding Effie, who was already resentful at having to rearrange their schedule for the day.  They’d lied about Katniss attending Tristan’s birthday party, making it appear as a favor to Peeta.  If she returned home, she feared the possibility of falling into another list of things to do before the night was over.

Peeta gave her a knowing half-smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not taking you home yet.”

Katniss’ eyes brightened. “Where is our next stop? Chuck E Cheese's?  A christening?  Maybe a sweet sixteen?”

Peeta groaned. “Come on, I can do better than that!”

She leaned into him, rocking lightly in his arms as she perched her head on his chest.  “I’m sure I’ll have fun, wherever you take me.”  She paused when a thought occurred to her. “Where do you live?”

“Not far from here,” he said. “Why, do you want to see my place?”

Katniss nodded with excitement, a thrill running through her like lightning.  “Depends. Do you have a tv?”

“Of course!  I have electricity and indoor plumbing too,” Peeta quipped.

“Don’t be a punk.” She swatted at him playfully but he caught her flailing hand and turned it palm up, setting a warm kiss at the base of her palm that caused her heart to pound again. “It’s settled. Take me to your house.”

Peeta’s eyes twinkled happily. “Deal.  But first, I’ve got a battle royale to survive.”

She tugged his head back down to kiss him briefly. “Now you’ve got an incentive to win.”

**XXXXX**

Katniss lingered in the kitchen, unsure whether to take up a station on the porch or in the glassed-in breakfast area to watch Peeta play Nerf Wars. She’d spent most of the afternoon meeting people and though they were kind and welcoming to her, she longed for a moment of peace.  In addition to Annie and Marvel, she’d also met several members of Peeta’s company from his time in the Army, two of Annie’s brothers, both Annie and Finnick’s parents and a handful of Peeta’s friends from school who still lived in the area.

In particular, Katniss recalled an older woman of about seventy who had caught her eye. She had long, curly gray hair and a wrinkled face that belied her years.  She had appeared to study Katniss carefully, which made her feel paranoid that maybe she’d finally been recognized.

The older woman had drifted over to them, marching right past Katniss and barging into a game of Wii that Tristan had finally convinced Peeta to play.  She'd grabbed Peeta by both cheeks, squeezing them gently between her gnarled hands.

_“Pee-ta!” the woman said slowly, with some difficulty._

_“Mags!” Peeta fairly groaned, standing suddenly and pulling the older woman into a hug so tight, he lifted her off the ground.  Katniss realized, with shame, that the woman had not been staring at her at all but at Peeta._

_“M-my b-boy,” she said with a deep, halting cadence, as if speaking no longer came easily to her._

_“I didn’t realize you were here,” Peeta said sweetly, letting the woman’s hands run over his cheek as she seemed to try not to cry.  When she’d recovered herself, she turned towards Katniss, pointing emphatically._

_“That’s Kat. She’s my friend,” he smiled happily as he pulled Katniss next to him. “Kat, this is Finnick's’ grandmother._

_“P-pretty,” Mags stuttered, grasping Katniss’ hand and squeezing it tight.  Addressing Katniss, she pointed at Peeta and said, “G-good b-boy.  P-Peeta.”_

_Katniss squeezed the older woman’s hand in return. “He is. The very best,” which made both Peeta and the older woman beam with pride._

She smiled at both the memory and at the sight of Peeta and a handful of his Army friends running with as much impunity as the youngsters, neon Nerf guns firmly in hand.  She couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they all looked and yet, it was so perfectly normal and domestic, it almost took her breath away.  She felt a presence close by to her and turned to see Annie watching her.

“I think Tristan loves you,” she said with bright eyes.  “This may be the best birthday party he’s ever had.”  Annie pulled two glasses from the cabinet above the counter.  “Do you like lemonade, Katniss?”

Katniss stiffened momentarily, the blood draining from her face.  “What gave it away?”

Annie chuckled, pulling a glass carafe from the refrigerator and pouring both glasses three-quarters full.  “I knew it the moment you stepped out of Peeta’s car.  Don't worry.  Your secret is safe with me.”   

Her smile was so warm and ironic, Katniss could not help but relax despite the discovery of her deception. “Thank you for not exposing me.”

Annie giggled again, leading Katniss toward the double doors. “Let’s sit in the gazebo.  It’s screened in and will protect us from bugs and darts.

When they’d settled onto the large, weatherproof cushions, Annie continued the conversation from inside the house.  “I can imagine why you would want a bit of anonymity. It can’t be easy being one of the most famous women in the world.”

Katniss blushed.  Even now that she was so famous, she sometimes found it strange to be so well known. She remembered too well her life before - the ability to walk down the street without being identified and accosted, not being followed by paps, or being able to have lunch in public without the request for a picture or autograph.  She looked out to the yard just in time to catch Peeta, with a face full of fierce determination, launch an attack on the opposing team, made up mostly of nine-year olds with equally deadly intentions.  When he exposed his position, a hail of foam bullets landed on him and he fell down, as if dead, only to resume his attack on Tristan and his friends when they approached him.

“He’s never brought anyone home,” Annie quietly began again.  “I’m sorry, this must all be so strange to you, to talk about him as if he was family even though he is not a blood relation. He has told you about us, about his connection to my family and that of my husband?”

“Yes, a little bit. I totally understand the dynamic. I have people who are like family to me even though we are not related.” Katniss’ thoughts flew to Gale, Jo, Madge, Effie, Haymitch - all people she would trust with her life. _And now...now there was Peeta_.

“It’s more than that,”  Annie said.  “You can’t go through what we went through and not feel bound for life.”

Katniss frowned. She knew of Peeta’s friendship with Finnick, and that he had died.  But she suspected there might be more to the story.  What she did not want to do was pry, fearing she would cause Annie unnecessary pain.

However, Annie read the confusion on her face. “Did Peeta mention to you how Finnick died?”

“He mentioned...I mean...he told me…” Katniss stammered helplessly. “I’m sorry,” she said finally.  “I don’t want you to have to relive any unhappy moments.”

“It was a terrible moment but it is also a part of my life, the life I share with my son,”  Annie sighed, glancing at Katniss. “It’s as much my story to tell as Peeta’s.  If you are here, that means you are important to him.”  Katniss’ eyes shifted over to where Peeta stood towering amongst the younger boys, organizing another game.  He must have sensed her watching him because he looked up and waved to her, his eyes brilliant and playful. She couldn’t help but respond back with a smile of her own.

“You see?” Annie laughed and Katniss chuckled as well, blushing to the roots of her fake hair. “Peeta was always with Finnick, since they were young.  Peeta’s mom is not the nicest woman in the world, thought I’ll leave it to Peeta to share that, if he hasn’t already.  Let’s just say she was very demanding and expected all her boys to be something they were not.” Annie’s anger at Peeta’s mother was evident in the way her voice changed when she spoke of her.  “It’s one of the reasons he enlisted as soon as he could, instead of staying at home for four more years and letting her pay for his school.”

Katniss thought back to their conversation in the car when they went to the drive-in.   _My family life was a little hard. I didn’t think I was going to survive four years in college living at home._

Her stomach sank as she glanced back at Peeta, the open excitement evident in his face as he chatted with his friends during a pause in the games, those blue eyes that could go from gentle to steele at a moment’s notice, the layers and layers of himself that he hid.  Her heart ached that he had had to learn the art of hiding himself at such a young age.

“That must have been so hard,” Katniss murmured.

Annie nodded, the movement drawing Katniss back to her.  “When they enlisted together, they both had such grand plans.” Annie appeared to laugh at a memory but didn’t elaborate on it.  “They were so earnest, everything all laid out.  I knew Finnick wanted to go into the military since he was young. It was the only way he was going to get his schooling paid for and he has had military men in his family for generations. But Peeta...” she paused, her mouth twisting as if in pity, “Peeta is a baker, a painter.  His heart is tender, his soul gets lost in beautiful things.  He followed Finnick out of love but he also went because he was running, to escape his home life.  People like Peeta shouldn’t be forced to become soldiers.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Katniss asked, appalled at this intimacy with a woman she barely knew.  She did not like matters of feeling and the heart and yet, she couldn’t help but be compelled to know everything because it was Peeta under discussion.

“He looks at you,” Annie said haltingly, as if losing courage but finding it again, “He looks at you as if he’d catch you with both his hands,” she held her own small hands cupped, palms upward, “and never let you touch the ground again. I’ve only ever seen that look one other time in my life.  My husband - because he is _still_ my husband - used to look at me that way too.”

Katniss, who wasn’t given to physical affection and only allowed herself to be touched by her family, and Peeta, reached out to grasp Annie’s hand.  She couldn’t help but bond with someone who held so much devotion in her heart.  It was clear that she loved Peeta and had unquestioningly accepted Katniss as a part of that.

“And also,” Annie said, interrupting Katniss’ thoughts, “because you’re famous and maybe you’re used to superficial people. Well, there’s nothing superficial about Peeta.” Annie gripped Katniss’ hand in return and Katniss could not help but be mesmerized by every word she spoke.  “He saw Finnick die right before his eyes and he couldn’t stop it.  And Peeta...he’s been a different person ever since.”

Katniss felt like Annie knocked the air out of her lungs.  When the shock washed over her, it was as if a key had finally clicked into place - the compulsive behaviors, the hypervigilance, the need for control, his aloof behavior, his hesitation to be with her - it all made sense to her now

Annie continued after the short pause, the sadness in her eyes having grown as she watched Katniss process what she was saying. “He believes, in the deepest part of his heart that it should have been him.”

Katniss shook her head violently.  “It’s not true!” she cried, with almost childlike conviction.  “How does anyone stop something like that from happening?”

“Maybe…” Annie closed her eyes as if she hadn’t heard Katniss, her face grimacing in pain, “Maybe I thought the same way when it first happened.  I’m sure there were times, when my sorrow was at its worst, that I was less than kind.  Grief makes you cruel.” Annie gave Katniss a small, sheepish smile. “I’ve made my peace with that. But Peeta...he doesn’t think he deserves the life he is living.”

“Oh, Peeta,” Katniss groaned, watching as Annie seemed to gaze off into space, lost apparently in a memory not intended to be shared with anyone. Katniss thought about her father and had the sudden intuition that Annie was seeing Finnick as if in a waking dream, the way Katniss once saw her father when he first died, when he seemed to be everywhere and yet nowhere at all.

Annie turned back to her.  “He’s done his best to be a father-figure to Tristan.  Every birthday.  Every Christmas.  And everything inbetween.  He’s done so much for both of us but he still believes he’s not enough.  He still thinks he shouldn’t be here.  He rarely mentions Finnick, but I know he would have taken that sniper’s bullet in a heartbeat.”  

Katniss flinched, her stomach turning at Annie’s last revelation, horror filling her soul over the knowledge of what Peeta had witnessed.  Annie struggled to remain present, her focus far from where she and Katniss sat spellbound in the gazebo.  But finally, she met Katniss’ eyes.  The immense sadness was still there but there was a quiet determination in them as well when she spoke again.

“Whoever is with him had better be prepared to prove him wrong.”

Annie didn’t say anything else after that, retreating to that mysterious world where Katniss could no longer reach her.  It was for the best, as Katniss’ mind and heart worked furiously to make sense of what she’d learned.

The game broke up soon after their conversation ended.  Katniss and Peeta leaned against each other as they sang Happy Birthday to Tristan.  Overwhelmed with a sudden, almost violent desire to protect Peeta, Katniss fed him cake, much to his surprise and delight, while Annie dutifully gave each child a gift bag.

As the afternoon wound down towards evening, Katniss gave Peeta an unspoken signal that perhaps it was time to leave.   Her mind hadn’t stopped spinning since she'd spoken with Annie and as they said their goodbyes, there was now a secret complicity between the two women.

“I hope to see you again, Katniss,” Annie said when she hugged her.

“Me too,” Katniss said sincerely.  “And thank you.”

Annie turned towards Peeta and gave him a hug. “Don’t wait so long to visit again.”

“I’ll try not to, but we’ll be leaving in a three weeks for a tour so it might be a couple of months before I can stop by again.”

“Then call me.  Or Skype. Just don’t fall off the earth,” she said.  “Tristan loves to hear from you.”

“Yeah!  We didn’t get to play with my train set today,” Tristan said, valiantly trying not to pout and failing completely.

"I'll make sure it gets onto his schedule, okay?" Katniss said as she ran her hands affectionately through the boy’s hair.

Peeta laughed, picking the boy up and tossing him into the air. “I promise I won’t let so much time pass again. I’ll stop by before we leave."

He took Katniss' hand for the short walk to the car, radiating happiness.  She couldn't help but smile to herself when he hugged her tightly before settling her into her seat and wondered how she could ever see him the same way again after what she had learned. Something had changed between them and as Peeta turned on the car and drove quietly through the neighborhoods surrounding Annie’s house, the tension became palpable. Katniss felt a dizzying rush of heat throughout her body but also something deeper, more acute.  She glanced at him, amazed that someone so unflappable, competent, generous, and kind could also carry such a tragic thing inside of him.  

She was suddenly grateful that they were not going back to her house. They were always in constant company, whether their schedule was full or empty, at home or in the car, even at a party like today's. But soon they’d be alone. She would have him to herself, and she didn’t need a crystal ball to see where things could go.

She wondered if he was thinking the same thing and concluded, based on the crackling tension between them, that he must be. Instead of being terrified of if, Katniss embraced it.  As she gripped his hand over the gear shift, she waited with anticipation to finally arrive at their destination.

 

**XXXXX**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! An extra special thanks to katnissdoesnotfollowback and bubblegum1425 for their betaing prowess.
> 
> I respond to all your reviews! Your comments mean the world to me. I look forward to hearing from you!


	10. Part 9

**Part 9**

 

**_You see through right to the heart of me_ **

**_You break down my walls with the strength of your love_ **

**_I never knew love like I've known it with you_ **

**_Will a memory survive, one I can hold on to_ **

 

**_I don't really need to look very much further_ **

**_I don't wanna have to go where you don't follow_ **

**_I won't hold it back again, this passion inside_ **

**_I can't run from myself_ **

**_There's nowhere to hide_ **

**_Your love I'll remember forever_ **

 

**-from _I Have Nothing_ by Whitney Houston**

 

**_Katniss_ **

 

Despite the warm day, a cool breeze heralded the start of evening as Peeta pulled into a cobblestone driveway flanking a bungalow in a sleepy, exclusive neighborhood. The house was...quaint, remarkably so given the fact that it belonged to a single man who spent most of his time away from home. Katniss had expected an ultramodern building with lots of glass and angles, but what greeted her instead was a beautiful, stone house the color of burnt orange with a large, front-facing bay window. The porch was small - nothing compared to Annie’s wrap-around. There was just enough space for a cozy swing and a small wooden table, perhaps a place to rest a drink on a summer evening.  

 

The accents were painted in shades of ochre and there was a rust-colored entrance that matched the garage door on the small, two story building at the end of the drive.  As Peeta pulled forward, he pressed a button on his dashboard, and the garage door opened on silent tracks. They were both uncharacteristically quiet as he parked the car inside, shutting it off before closing the door again.  Katniss followed him through the dark interior of the garage through a side door to the back yard, which was deceptively more expansive than the size of the house would have led a person to believe.

 

Peeta grasped her hand, guiding her through the heavy hanging trees and lush, overgrown bushes down a small path. It was then that she realized his house sat at the top a slope, at the foot of which lay a small pond.

 

“This is  breath-taking!” Katniss said, settling on the stone bench before a pool of clear water bordered with tall reeds and dotted with giant, waxy green lily pads.  She thought of Annie’s words of earlier, how sensitive Peeta was to beauty.  “Do you come here to draw?”

 

Peeta gave her a smile so shy and endearing, she barely repressed the urge to touch his face as he sat down.  “This is exactly why I bought this house.  Well, this and the solarium,” he smiled, surveying the greenery.  I love to sit here and sketch whatever caught my eye during the day.” He tapped his temple lightly. “I told you, I have an almost photographic memory.”

 

"It's really intimate," Katniss said with open admiration, wondering at what images his mind reproduced when he was alone.  "Have you drawn anything lately?"  

 

He nodded. "Most of my recent sketches are at your place, but I have my paintings inside."

 

"Would you show them to me?" she asked.

 

Peeta smiled, that shy and sweet expression returning, and again, she had to stifle the urge to pull his face to hers and kiss him.  Instead, she took his hand and gently pulled him to his feet, letting him lead her back out of the thicket that held his magical pool.

 

Katniss was in a strange state, with Annie’s words settling into the spaces of her mind and the pool enchanting her memory.  When they approached the house, that magical feeling persisted at the sight of trees hung heavily over what appeared to be a glassed-in patio  that stretched the entire back length of the house. It was bordered with wood that complimented the dark accents of the main house.  Katniss had seen solariums before - this was an example of a small one, given the size of the house. But when she stepped inside, she was greeted by tarp-covered canvases that littered the small space. There were not only canvases on easels; they leaned against walls, tables - any surface that could support them.

 

The floor was mottled by the soft evening sunlight filtering through the leaves above, while the furniture itself was spare - here the house revealed the itinerant nature of the owner. But it was tastefully chosen and placed strategically throughout the sitting area. Katniss wandered over to a painting on the wall and was excited to see a near life-like rendition of a picture by the sea, a familiar, copper-haired boy frolicking wildly in the sands with another boy, his blond curls shimmering wildly in the light.  There were other children scattered along the sands but the two boys were the focal point of the painting.  The sea appeared to be moving, lapping at the feet of the scampering boys.

 

“Finnick and I, when we were just a little older than Tristan is now,” Peeta said quietly.  

 

“It’s beautiful, Peeta,” Katniss said in awe.  “I don’t know what I was expecting but this is truly amazing.”

 

Peeta flushed as he ran his hand nervously through his hair. “Erm, this painting here is of my family.” He walked over to the far wall to a portrait of five people dressed in casual clothing, the mother and father seated, two boys flanking them on each side and one boy, the youngest, seated at his parent’s feet.  They appeared happy and carefree - a portrait meant to be informal and illustrate the joyful bonds of a loving family.  

 

Katniss glanced at Peeta surreptitiously, his eyes resting heavily on the canvas. “I copied that from a photograph.  My mother.” He pointed to the slender, blond-haired woman with wide, light blue eyes that radiated color but no warmth.  

 

“My father.” He indicated a broad-shouldered man with the same colored-shock of blonde hair that each of the sons had.  He had a happy expression, perhaps the most genuine of all.  

 

“My brothers, Ronan and Phillip.” He waved over the two boys flanking the parents.

 

“And me.”

 

Katniss studied the boy on the ground.  His cheeks were full and round where his brothers had already thinned out, both being in that age of transition where the body isn’t sure what it is.  But Peeta’s seated form called to mind the innocent simplicity of childhood.  After her conversation with Annie, she searched the face for the unhappiness that would drive him away, into the military and onto the path that led to where they now stood. But his expression was already an inscrutable mask, and Katniss realized there was nothing revealed there except the face of someone who, at a young age, had already learned the art of going into hiding.

 

“You were a beautiful little boy,” she said, thinking that at that age, Prim had already been without a father, and only had the protection of a scrawny, eleven year old girl who had tried to keep their lives together while their mother had disappeared into her own cavernous grief.  It had been more than hard, some days so difficult, she had just wanted to sit down and give up. But she’d had Prim, who was good and kind and loved Katniss, with her every flaw, her every deficiency, and even now gave her the strength to go forward.  If she had worn a mask to the world, it wasn’t because she was afraid to show who she was, but because she hadn’t wanted her sister to see how close she often came to breaking.

 

“We all wear masks,” Katniss said, so low, she thought Peeta couldn’t hear her.  But he looked at her sharply, his expression becoming almost weary and even relieved, as if she had found out his secret, and he was too tired to prove her wrong.

 

"Are _you_ , Katniss?  Are you wearing a mask?" he asked slowly.

 

Katniss captured and held his serious gaze.  "I used to."

 

"And now?"  He stepped closer, but Katniss needed distance to think, so she floated towards another easel.

 

“Not anymore,” she whispered as she studied another brilliant canvas of a meadow dotted with dandelions.  It was painted such that the viewer felt they were in the middle of the meadow, at eye level with the golden flowers, the sun setting in a hail of oranges that she now knew he loved. Her heart suddenly became heavy for him.  Annie had been right; he shouldn’t have been forced onto a path that did not allow him to explore his abilities, to cultivate them and share the astonishing visions he captured so beautifully with the world.  “You have so much talent.  Has anyone ever told you that?” she asked.

 

Peeta’s intense expression melted into a small smile, full of pride.  “My teachers always said so.” He glanced at the family portrait, furrowing his eyebrows. “They told me I had a gift.”

 

“Would you ever do this as more than a hobby?” Katniss asked.  

 

Peeta’s eyes widened in surprise. “I…” he said, and she came to the stunning conclusion that, even if he had at one point, he no longer seriously entertained the possibility.  He smiled, taking her hand and pulling her to towards him.  “I’m a little old for all that,” he said dismissively.  “And I like my work now.”  

 

Katniss was hard-pressed not to glare at him. “Bullshit,” she said, perhaps with more vehemence than she’d intended.  “You have no good reason not to take courses or study, if that’s what you really want…” she said with a desperation that took her by surprise, as if with that one thing, she could erase all the tragedies he’d been submitted to in his life.

 

Peeta chuckled, studying her half humorously, half incredulously.  “If I did that, who would take care of you?  Do you know that protecting you is a full-time job?”

 

“Don’t you even use me as an excuse!” Katniss spat angrily. “I’d work around your schedule; you could have all the days off you needed, hire more bodyguards. That’s not even a reason…”

 

“Katniss?” Peeta said, suddenly serious. “What’s gotten into you?”  

 

Katniss flushed.  She was horrible with words and there was no way she could tell him how much Annie’s conversation had affected her, how irrational her reaction was.  And yet, she could not help the cacophony of emotions that wracked her after knowing what she now knew about him, how she had an uncontrollable urge to right every wrong ever done to him. She realized at that moment how angry she was on his behalf, as if the universe had been given one job - to protect him - and it had failed.

 

“I…” she sputtered, her words failing her completely.  Instead, she reached up with impressive strength and pulled his head down to kiss her.  She dominated that moment, guiding him as she kissed him hard.  Peeta’s reaction was instantaneous, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her against him until her feet almost left the ground, returning her ardor stroke for stroke.  Katniss thought she’d have more time to talk about his art, his mother, Finnick.  She thought she’d have a parenthesis to unleash all the feelings she was carrying inside of her.  But what she felt had become unbearable, and she had no choice but to act.  

 

As Peeta returned her kiss, he splayed his large hands across her back, pressing her more tightly against him, stroking her from the nape of her neck to the edge of her jeans.  She felt his fingers against her as he found the exposed skin revealed by her shirt riding up and with a small moan, shivered at the way he caressed the small of her back.

 

“Katniss,” he groaned, pulling back, every illusion of indifference gone as the tops of his cheeks turned pink.  

 

She thrilled at the plaintive sound of her name on his lips.  She shook her head before kissing him again, more gently this time.  Peeta kissed her back with the same gentleness, imploring with his kiss what he could not ask with his voice. Her response was to kiss him again, wordlessly begging him to follow her.  

 

Whatever resistance he’d felt up to that moment evaporated. Lips still locked together, he lifted her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He wound his way through the darkening house as the sunset left long, slanted shadows along the hard wood floors.

 

When he set her down in the bedroom, he took her head in both his hands, holding it in place.  He searched her eyes, her face, perhaps for signs of hesitation or doubt, but Katniss gave nothing away, instead placing her own hands over his, pressing them gently against her cheeks, the warmth of his palms intoxicating her.  Peeta looked at her warily, but Katniss would have none of it.

 

“Stop acting like you’re surprised I want this too,” Katniss said firmly.  “I’m not a teenager.” She dropped her hands to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, dislodging his in the process. “I know how to say no.”

 

Peeta gasped in shock at the sight of her exposed torso, before he grasped her upper arms, pulling her towards him until she was within an inch of his face. “I’m warning you, if I start, I won’t stop.  I’ve wanted you for too long.  I have to hear you say it.  Is this something you really want? Do you allow it?”

 

Katniss almost faltered, not from lack of resolve, but from the fierceness in his expression. However, she simply nodded once. “I allow it.”

 

She slipped her hands under his shirt, pulling it off of him and flinging it across the floor to join her own discarded clothing.   Her fingers ran along the expanse of his well-muscled chest and rippled abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch in anticipation of more.

 

As she rained kisses down on his neck and chest, his hands raced over her body, squeezing her hips, sliding upwards until he reached the clasp of her bra and with one practiced pinch, undid it, letting it fall off her shoulders. He paused as his eyes roamed her bare breasts hungrily, distracted only when Katniss captured his nipple between her lips and sucked on one, then the other.  He could only hiss in response as his hands frantically searched for her hair to find purchase.

 

Katniss felt him freeze when he found himself with a handful of her wig hair. “May I take this off?” he asked.

 

She reached up, pulling off the disguise, her own dark braid tumbling from its confines.  Peeta tugged at the band holding it in place and with gentle strokes of his thick fingers, loosened her hair until it lay in ripples over shoulders.

 

“Beautiful,” he muttered before pressing his fingers against the nape of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss as his other hand cupped the swell of her soft, firm breast.  His lips traveled over her, kissing wherever they landed - her mouth, her neck, her smooth collarbone until he stopped to suck on the tops of her breasts, the turgid nipples rising in supplication to meet him.  

 

She moaned his name over and over as his tongue danced over the tips, drawing them out until they were hard pebbles between his lips.  He tugged them playfully, insistently until her words made no more sense.  His hands spanned her figure, sliding over the exposed skin of her waist, reaching the top of her pants, followed by his mouth as he unbuttoned them, pushing them down her legs.  

 

All the emotions Katniss had been holding in since her talk with Annie spilled over into the kisses she now gave him so freely, in every movement of her shaking body.  Her mind ceased all functioning and she was possessed only by the pure feeling of his hands and mouth on her. Her breath came in pants as he pressed her gently towards the bed and laid her down, his mouth teasing out the tender spaces between her hip bones, nibbling a path that came tantalizingly close to the edge of her  underwear.  Her expectation grew as he bit her mound over the thin material, causing her to yelp in surprise.  When she glanced down at him, he wore a smirk that made her chuckle.

 

"What are you so smug about?" she teased breathlessly.  "You haven't done anything yet."

 

Peeta raised an eyebrow.  "Is that a challenge?"

 

"Just an observation," she said flippantly, feeling anything but.

 

Peeta tugged her legs until her bottom rested at the edge of the mattress, leaving open-mouthed kisses over her belly and thighs.

 

"I'm going to make you sing before I'm finished with you," he growled against her belly button.  

 

"I already sing for a living," she said in a burst of air as he rolled her panties off of her.

 

His voice came thick and husky as he answered, “Not like this.”  He lowered his head, running his tongue in one, long, tantalizing path over her wet center.  She was so ready, he could have taken her then if he wanted to, but she knew what he wanted to hear - all the ways she could shout his name.  And so his tongue danced and plunged, thick baker’s fingers gently probing her in time.  Katniss’ answering cries pierced the air as her thighs pressed against his ears.  He worked with deliberate slowness until she felt him press her clit, his thumb rubbing circles that wound her up, her back arching with each pass.

 

"Ahhhh, Peeta! " she shouted, as he moved faster, more insistently, pinning her hips so that she could not move until she shuddered and came against his lips, her soft walls fluttering around his fingers.  

 

Peeta straightened to unbuckle his belt and remove his pants, kicking them off, all the while holding her now dazed gaze with his own.  His cock visibly strained against the confines of his underwear and though Katniss’ bones were made of jelly, she knew she would not know true relief until he was finally inside of her.  She rose slowly, tugging his hips towards her, her lips tracing the outline of his swollen erection against the soft material of his boxer shorts.

 

“Fair is fair,” she said with a grin as she tugged the elastic hem downwards, freeing his cock.  She captured it in hand and stroked it, peppering his stomach and thighs with kisses. Pulling him onto the bed, she made room for him to lay next to her before resuming her kisses along his thighs and knees, all the while stroking him until he moaned loudly.  Katniss left a lingering kiss against the tip of his cock before lifting her head to look at him.

 

“I’m not the only one who’s going to sing,” she said before sliding her lips over him, taking him in as deeply as she could.  Peeta moaned again, mumbling incomprehensibly as she bobbed her head up and down, pausing to use her tongue to stroke him before resuming her rhythm.  She was overwhelmed by that strange combination of sweat, spice, and the musk that defined him, so much so that she was taken by surprise when he pulled out of her mouth and pressed her back onto the mattress, ravaging her with kisses between bursts of heavy breathing.  He nudged her legs open, positioning himself between them.

 

Katniss glanced between them meaningfully but she was greeted by another sly smile as Peeta triumphantly pulled out a silver foil packet, ripping it open with his teeth, discarding the piece by spitting it somewhere over his shoulder.  She couldn’t help but laugh at his eager willingness to dispense with manners when he thrust the packet towards her.  “Will you do the honors?”

 

She smiled coyly as she grasped his rigid cock in hand, stroking it before sheathing it in the thin material of the condom, rolling it with exaggerated slowness, watching while Peeta’s eyes fluttered shut.

 

“Only you can make putting on a condom the sexiest fucking thing in the world,” he said as he leaned forward, pressing against her. “Ready?”

 

She nodded, pulling him down to kiss her as he sank into her, relishing every inch of him until he had buried himself deeply inside of her.  It was thrilling and uncomfortable and fulfilling all at once.  As Peeta sucked on the skin of her earlobe, he rocked into her, slowly at first, then with more speed as they both began to rise, a crescendo of motion that coiled tightly around him.  Moving faster, Peeta shook his head as if in exasperation.

 

“Goddammit, you feel too good!” he complained, the exertion turning his skin pink, sweat beginning to gather at his brow and temple.  “I”m coming. Shit!” he said angrily, trembling from the effort to keep himself under control.

 

Katniss stroked his hair, leaning forward to kiss his neck. “It’s okay.  We’ll do it again.”  She stared up into his open eyes. “Let go.”

 

Peeta nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as he thrust once, twice, three times before shuddering his release, grunting in anger and abandon until at last, he dropped his head onto her shoulder, panting as his body struggled with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said against her shoulder, his voice still filled with tension.  “It’s been awhile.”

 

“It’s been awhile for me too,” Katniss said drowsily, focusing instead on the stickiness between them, their mingled sweat cooling in the night air.  “Two years, maybe.  How about you?”

 

Peeta sighed as he rolled next to her. “About the same. Two years, nine months, 12 days give or take,” he said quietly, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory.

 

Katniss narrowed her eyes, awash in a feeling she did not want to dwell on for very long. “Was she that good that you felt the need to keep count?”

 

Peeta rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I do that with everything.  When was the last time I read a book?  Four months, two weeks, three days.  When was the last time I went to the beach?  Six months eleven days.  When was the last time I watched a music video?  Eight days.”  He glanced at her, amusement written all over his face as he finally noticed her continued scowl. “It’s that little memory thing I told you about.”

 

Katniss stared at him suspiciously, undecided whether to believe him or not.  “If you say so,” she muttered moodily, turning her face away.  Peeta lifted himself, reclining on his elbow as he caught her chin in his hand and turned her face towards him.

 

“You’re jealous,” he stated simply.

 

“Don’t even…” she started but he stopped her with his mouth pressing against hers.

 

“Yes you are.” His lips smiled but his eyes blazed with an intensity that reached into the deepest corners of her chest to clamp itself around her heart.  “Do you think anything compares to what we just did?  I’m cursed with the ability to see every detail of every event and remember it, replaying it over and over until I’m sick of myself.  I’ve always hated it except when I paint…”  Peeta ran his hand along her neck, splaying his fingers between her breasts, his thumb just glancing her nipple so that it rose automatically. “...and now, you. I’ll replay every sound you made, every breath you took, and finally be grateful that I won’t forget.  It’s more than enough to erase everything that came before.”

 

Katniss bit her lip to keep from dissolving into those hiccuping sobs that she hated so much. Instead, she pulled him down and kissed him, clasping her arms around his neck.  He leaned onto her, his nearly unbearable weight pressing her down into the mattress.

 

When they broke off, Katniss’ mind whirled again. “Is that...is that how you remember Finnick too?” she asked hesitantly, knowing she was perhaps treading on dangerous ground, but Annie’s words had still remained with her, even when all thinking had stopped.  She could not help her need to know his heart more.

 

Peeta’s face froze, the only visible movement was his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.  He appeared to study her, debating something before releasing the tension he held in check. “Every night since he died, I see him. Sometimes, there’ll be a break and I’ll dream other nightmares - losing Tristan in a toy store, my father getting ill and dying before we can make things up…” He took a shaky breath and Katniss instantly regretted the question.  She pressed her head to his forehead, giving him wordless permission to stop if that’s what he wanted but he continued. “Hurting someone by accident…or not being able to protect you..."  He looked up at her then, his eyes brimming with a pain long hidden.  Katniss was stunned by his anguish, her heart constricting to a vice-like pressure over Peeta’s hurt.  She realized this was a side of himself he probably did not often reveal.

 

“But Finnick...I was there, Katniss," Peeta said, his voice raw.  He sat up, pulling his knees up to rest his chin against them, almost like a child would when they’ve been punished.  "I imagined everything when I went in with him but never that.  He...he died right in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything to save him.  One minute, we were alive, happy, talking about Tristan and going home and the next…”  He paused, rubbing a hand over his face, and Katniss suspected he was rubbing tears away.  “I failed him."

 

Katniss sat up also, putting an arm around his curved shoulders.  "I don't know all the details but unless you pulled the trigger, there is no way you can blame yourself. "

 

Peeta looked at her out of the corner of his eye, bumping her playfully.  "I appreciate it, you know."

 

"Appreciate what?" she asked.

 

"What you're trying to do. I know in my mind what you're saying is true, but..." He dropped his head as if everything had become suddenly very heavy.

 

"You can't help the way you feel," she finished for him.  His eyes were tired, from the excitement of the day, their lovemaking, the weight of memory.  Katniss tugged him to her, reclining on the bed pillows and settling him against her chest.  "Lay your head down, soldier, and rest now."  He stared at her for a long moment, a rapid array of emotions she couldn’t quite place flitting over his face before he closed his eyes, his cheek resting over the place where her heart pounded in time with his.  She tenderly brushed a wave of hair off his forehead as she felt the tension leave his body.

 

_I'll protect you._

 

With a parting sigh from him and that refrain in her head, they both drifted off to sleep.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Sometime in the deepest hours of the night, Katniss woke to Peeta’s thrashing, a look of exquisite pain marring his sleeping features.  Settling a hand on his brow, she slowly stroked him awake.  When his eyes fluttered open, they were bottomless pools of grief and agony.  And yet, at the sight of her, his eyes cleared, the tiny diamond droplets of tears on his eyelashes glistening like frost on baby firs.  

 

Katniss let him pull her over him, his hands and mouth searching her body before he flipped her beneath him again  This time, when he hovered over her, he was no longer playful but took her with the seriousness of a man holding something so rare, it might shatter from rough handling. Katniss felt the rocking of his hips like a soundless melody in her heart, lonely but questioning.  Her every thrust was an answer to his silent petition - to stay, to understand him, to dare to love him.  And every time, her silent response was _yes._

 

A phone vibrated insistently in the distance, invading their consciousness, threatening to hijack their moment.  But Katniss tugged Peeta back into their tiny world, whispering, "Let it ring," before clenching her muscles around him. Peeta nodded, thrusting hard into her, over and over until an anchor somewhere in the real world snapped and they were both flying.

 

**XXXXX**

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to bubblegum1425, katnissdoesnotfollowback and peetabreadgirl for their constant support with this fic. We are nearing the climax of the story and I am so grateful to all of you for your reviews and your dedication. I will respond to the latest rounds of reviews this week. Your comments, observations and questions are what really make this endeavor worthwhile and I have had the most amazing conversations by email with some of you. Thank you for the time you take to speak to me.
> 
>  
> 
> I am participating in the Finish-a-Fic month (-ish) Challenge hosted by Everlarkianarchives (over on tumblr). Finishing this fic is my first goal. My second one is to finish The Sharp Edge of Memory (formerly Persuasion) before September 1st. If you are following my work, that is the next fic I will be working on until it’s finished.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this. I appreciate you guys so much :D.


	11. Part 10

**_Didn't we almost have it all_ **

**_When love was all we had worth giving?_ **

**_The ride with you was worth the fall my friend_ **

**_Loving you makes life worth living_ **

**_Didn't we almost have it all_ **

**_The nights we held on till the morning_ **

**_You know you'll never love that way again_ **

**_Didn't we almost have it all_ **

 

 **_-from_ ** **Didn't We Almost Have It All _by Whitney Houston_**

 

Peeta’s eyes fluttered open in the soft light of sunrise. He paused to absorb the way his bedroom, with the large, tree-enshrouded window, received the filtered light of the rising sun.  Like the solarium, the floor was a kaleidoscope of patterns that ended just at the edge of the bed.  For a moment, he thought he was sleeping in a bower in the forest and not a bed made by human hands.

 

The even breathing from his right brought him definitively awake.  He was not alone any more.  He turned, careful not to make any sudden movements to disrupt the sleep of his companion and openly studied her, without fear of discovery.  

 

She slept on her back, her arm resting over her stomach, the other flung lightly over her head, well defined from archery and dancing, graceful and shapely at rest. Her skin was as smooth as olive-tinted marble, and he wanted to run his fingers along her collarbone, down between the valley of her near perfectly-shaped, dark-tipped breasts.

 

The thin blanket had shifted downwards in her sleep to just barely cover her hips.  Now, without the shroud of darkness, he could take pleasure in her rare beauty.  Her hair was a tangle of swarming locks that framed her small, angular face.  The small lines at the edges of her eyes lay smooth and almost nonexistent. Her long dark lashes rested above the high cheekbones of her face, the sweep of her proud, straight nose rose over her plump lips and pointed, dimpled chin all begged to be kissed.

 

He felt himself harden at the sight of her, especially as her chest rose and fell in sleep and the outline of her hips under the blanket beckoned to him.  It was greedy and unconscionable to disturb her slumber but he found himself lifting the blanket ever so slightly, her one leg bent outward as if it already anticipated him.  He moved carefully over her in the bed, praying at each moment that she would stay asleep long enough to allow him to wake her with his hands and his tongue.

 

He could smell himself on Katniss, just as he wore her on his skin.  He found this so intensely arousing, he almost dispensed with his plan, desiring instead to take her straight away.  But no, he wanted this.  He wanted to wake her this way.

 

His tongue flicked out, licking her slowly, her skin soft but inert beneath his gentle strokes.  He heard her soft moan as she stirred, but she continued to sleep and he smiled because he was responsible for her exhaustion.  

 

His tongue probed further as he shifted her leg so that now both lay bent outwards, her body an open blossom beneath his lips.  He tugged gently at the skin before his tongue became an insistent, swirling force of dominance, demanding her response.  She moaned again and he could not help but note the way her body was ready for him, though it was still in that twilight between sleep and wakefulness.  He slipped two fingers gently inside to feel the unbearable softness of her walls around him, and it was that delicate invasion that caused her to wake completely, with a whimper on her lips.  As he licked her clit in time with his fingers, he caught her drowsy, half-coherent stare as her lovely grey eyes fell on him, the exquisite look of desire blazing across her sleep-heavy features.  At that moment, she was the most desirable creature in the world and he itched to see her lose herself under the insistence of his mouth on her.

 

He smoothed back her lips to find the very center of her desire, lowering his mouth over it.  Her back bowed off the bed as he sucked, first gently, then more insistently, in time with his thick fingers until he felt her climbing, her fists grasping the blankets as if for dear life.  He curved his fingers slightly and the explosion came, rolling through her.  She threw her head back and shouted, “Peeta!  Oh, god,” losing all sense of coherence, moaning and writhing as he quickly pulled himself up, grasping a condom and rolling it over himself, eager to feel her flutter around his cock.  

 

He plunged into her warm, supple body, her tremors cresting over him.  He kissed her impossibly soft skin, felt her hands snake up his arms and over his shoulders as she clung to him, her legs like vines around his waist.  His strokes were long and pronounced as he sought to make her feel him, to please her the way she pleased him.  He wanted to make her come, so many times, she wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else again.  He wanted her for him alone, and it was that powerful desire to possess her, to have her accept him as hers, that made him cling to her in return.

 

Katniss showered his neck and shoulders with kisses and the feel of those soft lips on his skin drove him forward.  When she captured his earlobe and sucked on it, he felt the sensation all the way to his belly.  

 

“I’m so close!” she burst out, each thrust he made meeting with a cry or moan from her lips.  Peeta made to shift his hips but she grasped his bottom with both her hands and hissed in his ear, “Don’t change anything!”  Her fluttering walls overwhelmed him.  As she called out his name, he responded with a long moan of his own as he chased behind her and fell apart, coming in spasms that rocked his entire body.

 

They breathed hard against each other, struggling to come back to earth.  When Peeta could think again, he lifted himself on his forearms to watch her watch him.  Slowly, like dawn breaking, she smiled, scooping his heart up out of his chest.

 

“Good morning,” he said.

 

“Mmmm…” she said slowly, as if relearning how to speak again.  “It really was. I could get used to waking up like that.”

 

Peeta chuckled, running a long caress over her hips and thighs before rolling to lay next to her, flicking the used condom into a nearby wastebasket.  “I could arrange that,” he said, gathering her up into his arms.

 

“You do that,” she answered drowsily, her fingers playing with the smattering of blond curls on his chest.

 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

 

“Famished,” she answered, and he could hear the longing in her voice.

 

“I can make you pancakes. I just have to run out and get a few things.”

 

Katniss buried her head in his chest, clutching him to her before she spoke again.  “No, don’t move.  We’ll eat later, or even tomorrow. Maybe we won’t ever eat again.”

 

“Uh-uh, lazy bug,” he chuckled.  “You stay right here, and I’ll take care of everything.”  He peppered her forehead and cheeks with kisses before releasing her and getting up.  His body felt warm and sticky with the flavor of her and though he would wash up, he wanted the smell of her on him a little longer.  When he returned from the bathroom, he felt her eyes on him as he pulled a pair of running pants from his bureau, together with two t-shirts. “For you, when you get up,” he said, handing one to her.  

 

Katniss smiled, laying the t-shirt on the pillow next to her. “I don’t need it,” she said as she got up out of bed and walked, in all her naked glory, towards the bathroom. “I’ll stay just like this,” she smiled coyly at him as she made to close the door behind her but Peeta stopped her, his body reacting instantly to her nakedness.

 

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, leaning her up against the tiled wall, his hands reaching beneath to grasp her ass and squeeze hard.  She let out a ragged breath as he kneaded her buttocks, her pupils darkening in response.  The expression of her lust had him toying with the idea of taking her right up against the bathroom wall, breakfast be damned.  “If you ever want to eat or leave this house again, you’re going to have to cover up that delicious ass.  Do you understand?”

 

She nodded as if in a daze, his hands giving one more squeeze before he released her.  He shut the door behind her and sought to clear his head by collecting his discarded clothes.  He was interrupted by the simultaneous vibration of his phone in his pants’ pocket and a musical chiming of Katniss’ phone somewhere in the house.  He followed the sound as he swiped the screen of his own phone, freezing when he saw twelve missed calls and several text messages.

 

“What the hell?” he muttered as he found the source of the sound in Katniss’ bag, which lay in a forgotten heap on the floor of the solarium.  Peeta scrolled through the messages, his hand beginning to shake as he made his way through each of them.

 

_Gale - Peeta, man, where the fuck are you?_

 

_Officer Cartwright - We are attempting to reach Katniss Everdeen and were told she might be with you. Please call me immediately._

 

_Effie - Come home right away!_

 

Repeated messages, from Gale, Haymitch, calls from the police. The time stamp showed that they’d been trying to reach him since midnight.  Hours and hours of searching.  And what had he been doing?  Clearly, not his job.  Peeta felt like he was going to be sick.

 

He scooped up Katniss’ bag and strode back to the bedroom, where Katniss was slipping the t-shirt over her head.  Her hair was in disarray, her eyes bright, her face luminous and he suddenly didn’t want any of this to end.  He wished he could just freeze this moment in time and live in it forever.  But it just wasn’t in the cards for him.  Ever.  He would always get right to the edge of things, reach out for them, just to watch them slip away.  His family.  Finnick.  And now Katniss.  

 

When she looked up at him, the joy in her grey eyes dimmed immediately when she caught his expression.  He handed her the bag with self-loathing; he’d allowed himself to be distracted and this is what had happened.  

 

“You’re phone,” he said mechanically, masking the fear as he’d always masked everything else, as he always would to the end of his days.

 

As she rummaged frantically through it, she said, “Peeta, you’re scaring me. What happened?”

 

Helping her collect her things, he spoke as if his soul had been sucked out of him. “Something’s happened to Prim.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

They drove in silence to Panem University Hospital.  Peeta spent most of the drive listening as Officer Cartwright described the event according to witnesses.

 

Prim had gone out with her friends at about nine o’clock.  They’d met up at a club called _The Capitol_ , a popular hangout for local college students.  After a few hours of music and dancing, Prim and her friends had decided to join another group of friends at another locale in the downtown area.  However, in the parking lot, a man wielding a gun had attempted to abduct Prim by separating her from her companions.  Witnesses described him yanking her by the neck, resulting in serious injuries.

 

Thankfully, Peeta’s men had been shadowing her, as they always did, and had been able to stop the abduction from taking place.  However, in the melee, Prim received a concussion from a blow to the head when the gunman attempted to take off with her, before he was overpowered by the bodyguards and the police who had arrived soon after at the scene.

 

“She’s in stable condition. She has a concussion so they have to keep her for observation,” Peeta said calmly as Katniss’ face became harder and harder.  She gripped the straps of her bag, twisting them so tightly, the knuckles of her hands turned white from the exertion.  Peeta took her hand and held it briefly, releasing it to change the gears as they sped down the freeway to the exit to the hospital.

 

“She has damage to her neck, too, from being...attacked,” Katniss choked out, her impassive face threatening to shatter and he clasped her hand again and squeezed it, trying to give her any comfort he could under the circumstances.  But she managed to hold herself together as Peeta parked.  A look of dismay came over Katniss’ face when she saw the swarm of reporters and photographers crowding the entrance to the hospital.  She glanced at Peeta in panic.

 

“I can try to sneak you in…” he suggested.

 

“No,” her fear turning into grim determination.  She fixed her large hat over her head.  “Fuck them. I’m going to see my sister.”

 

She stepped out of the car, smoothing and straightening her clothes, which were wrinkled from having lain haphazardly on the floor of Peeta’s bedroom all night.  They walked briskly, the swarm of photographers descending on them the moment they realized who she was.  Peeta was forced to grasp her by the waist and shove his way through the crowds.  Questions came at them from all sides:

 

_“Can you confirm the attack on your sister last night?”_

 

_“Ms. Everdeen!  Can you comment on the police investigation surrounding your sister’s attempted abduction?”_

 

_“Ms. Everdeen!  Look here!  Give us something!”_

 

The cacophony of words flung at them became more and more chaotic, each one climbing over the other until nothing made sense any longer.

 

Katniss and Peeta pushed their way into the hospital reception area, where hospital security blocked the paps from entering.  A young woman shuffling papers at the reception desk froze, staring wide-eyed as Katniss waited for her to acknowledge her.

 

“I’m Katniss Everdeen,” Katniss said impatiently. “I’m here to see Primrose Everdeen.  She was admitted last night.”  Her tone was brusque while the receptionist continued to stare dumbly at her.  Peeta realized that they were back in the real world and no longer in the safe cocoon where they’d lived  for the last twenty-four hours.

 

“Ms. Everdeen’s sister is in this hospital,” Peeta said with cool authority, snapping the woman from her celebrity-induced daze.  “We need to see her right away.”

 

“Y-yes sir,” she stuttered as she briskly prepared the visitor passes.  “Are you...are you related to the…”

 

“Yes, he is,” Katniss snapped, giving the woman a glare so intimidating, Peeta almost felt sorry for her.  The receptionist scrambled to prepare the necessary passes and give them directions to Prim’s unit.

 

“Thank you,” Peeta said as Katniss tugged him towards the elevators.  They didn’t say a word as they moved up within the metal bowels of the hospital, the tinny dinging of the panel the only sound as the floors passed.  Katniss gripped Peeta’s hand, leaning into him.  He felt a powerful surge of shame as his arm snaked around her shoulders, squeezing her to his side.  He shouldn’t have put his phone on vibrate, he should have insisted Katniss answer her phone last night. Rationally, he knew that by the time they’d been called, the crime had been committed but maybe, in the moment, he could have done something more, though what exactly, he could not be sure.

 

His sense of failure increased with every step he took towards Prim’s room.  An older woman, almost the spitting image of Prim, stood outside the door and stepped into the corridor as Katniss rushed towards her.

 

“Ma!” Katniss said as she put her arms around her.  All of the pent-up tension that Katniss had held in place through sheer will quaked through her and exploded in an audible sob as she buried her face in the woman’s neck.

 

“Shhhh...she’s okay,” the older woman said, stroking Katniss’ hair.  She glanced at Peeta with eyes the same color as Prim’s, appraising him before she turned her attention back to her older daughter.  “She’s just bruised and shaken up but thank god, she’s fine.”

 

“Mama, they did this because of me…” Katniss choked out.

 

“Now stop that!  She’s waiting for you inside and she can’t see you like this.” Katniss’ mother swiped at the tears on Katniss’ cheeks and rubbed her arms.  “Chin up, now.”

 

Katniss nodded, wiping her nose as she went into the room.  Peeta stood at the door, arms crossed, wearing a stone expression that defied anyone to speak to him.  Katniss’ mother looked him over.  It was clear she’d been here most of the night, from her disheveled appearance and dark circles under her eyes.

 

“You are Peeta Mellark, Katniss’ head of security, aren’t you?” she asked.

 

“Yes ma’am,” Peeta said as his phone vibrated, a message from Gale lighting up his screen.  He fired off a response, letting him know that they’d arrived at the hospital.

 

“Well, if it wasn’t for those two men you assigned to Prim, I think we would have had a very different night.”  The expression she wore was one of absolute gratitude.

 

Peeta nodded, filled with shame again, made worse now by this undeserved thanks from a woman who’d already lost her husband and now almost a daughter.  He should have been at his post, focused on apprehending the assailant hours ago.  Instead…

 

“It’s my job, ma’am,” he said as his phone vibrated again, this time with a phone call from Detective Cartwright.  “I have to take this call.  It’s the investigator on the case.”

 

“Of course,” she said, studying him over yet again before slipping inside the room, leaving Peeta to his phone call.

 

“Mr. Mellark,” Detective Cartwright said.  “I thought you’d like an update on the assailant.”

 

“You’ve identified him?” Peeta said rhetorically, the adrenaline coursing through his body.  He had a sudden vision of taking the attacker in hand and pummeling his face into the ground.

 

“Yes. Cato Alexander.  Ex-employee for Ms. Everdeen.  According to your notes, he was fired two years ago for attempting to sell stolen private photos of Ms. Everdeen to various news outlets.”  

 

Peeta’s eyes widened slightly.  Cato.  It seemed almost stupidly obviously, though he had not been the only one to be released from employment because of violations to the confidentiality agreement.  Peeta berated himself again. He should have known.  Instead he swallowed and asked, “Then it’s over?  I mean, he got caught red-handed.”

 

“Well, yes, there is that,” Officer Cartwright responded. “His van was filled with incriminating equipment.  He is being charged with aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, and stalking - these are all felony charges and will put him away for a long time.”

 

Peeta let out a deep breath. “Ms. Everdeen will be happy to know that.”  He stiffened, however, as the charges sank in.  “Conspiracy to commit murder?”

 

Officer Cartwright shuffled papers on her desk, the sound of the sheets floating over the phone. “Yes, Mr. Mellark.  From the evidence at the scene and in his van, it was clear that he did not intend to hold Ms. Everdeen hostage for long.”  She paused to give Peeta a chance to absorb the information before continuing.  “However, there is still one further concern and he isn’t talking.”

 

“What is that?” Peeta said, sensing that things were about to become complicated.

 

“Mr. Mellark, Cato Alexander has an accomplice who he is unwilling or unable to identify.”

 

“What do you mean, unable to identify?”

 

“He is still under interrogation but according to Mr. Alexander, he has employed a professional “hit man” whose identity continues to remain a mystery.  He claims that it is because he does not know the identity of the supposed hired gun but that remains to be seen.”

 

Peeta’s moment of relief at the apprehension of Katniss’ stalker dissipated. Unfortunately, he had heard of hits taken out on targets in which the assassin was largely unknown to the person seeking their services.  Every meeting and business transaction was done by proxy - indicating the person involved was part of a larger crime ring.  No one was ever identified and identities were aggressively concealed.  He knew they were back to square one, playing a game of chicken until this person made their move and he had to suppress the urge to punch the wall.

 

“Well, he’s committed, I’ll give him that much,” Peeta hissed.

 

“Unfortunately, Mr. Alexander was quite thorough. He had sinister intentions last night, Mr. Mellark.  Until the accomplice is identified, we cannot ensure Ms. Everdeen’s safety. We will keep you posted if we develop any further leads in the case.”

 

“Thank you,” Peeta said as he disconnected the call.  He began to make calculations, reviewing the events of the last few months.  Every single one could have easily been attributed to Cato.  Why employ an accomplice, and add that element of uncertainty?  He thought about Priim and understanding dawned on him so quickly, he felt sick to his stomach stomach and had to lean against the wall to steady himself.  Cato had likely hired the assassin, not as a fail-safe or even to limit his own exposure - he’d exposed himself already when he went after Prim.  No, he had hired this mysterious person because it was part of his grand plan to destroy Katniss completely.  It would have been his crowning achievement - kidnap and murder the sister, giving Katniss the worst possible suffering before a hit man would take her out for good.

 

It was diabolical and sickening.  Everyone who knew anything about Katniss Everdeen could see that her sister was the most important person in the world to her.  If someone wanted to inflict the maximum amount of damage on Katniss, all they had to do was go after Prim.

 

“Sick motherfucker!” Peeta hissed, his rage turning his stomach even more until he thought he might vomit on the floor.  If the accomplice had any sense, he would abandon his plans against Katniss and disappear now that Cato was captured, but it would depend entirely on who the assassin was.

 

When Peeta was sure he was in complete control of himself again, he pressed open the door of the room where Katniss sat holding her sister’s hand, speaking quietly to her while her mother looked on. The slight movement of the door opening drew Prim’s eyes to him.  She smiled weakly in greeting.

 

“Peeta,” she whispered. She wore a neck-brace that held her head in line with her neck.  It kept her stiff and did not look entirely comfortable but Prim’s expression gave none of that away.  Like Katniss, she was determined to be strong for her mother and sister.  Peeta moved closer to the bed where Katniss sat perched like a hawk, taking in every movement her sister made.  When Peeta approached, she glanced at him gratefully before turning her full attention on her sister again.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, feeling his chest clench.  Prim looked pale and tired, in complete contrast to her usual vivacity.  It made Peeta feel even worse than he had when he first found out.  Even now, with the weight of Prim’s injuries on his conscience, he couldn’t help sensing, with every pore and nerve ending, Katniss’ proximity and became even more disgusted with his distraction  He moved discreetly away from her and gave Prim his most heart-felt smile.

 

“A little beat up,” she whispered, then swallowed in pain.

 

“Hey, don’t talk,” Peeta whispered.  “When will she be discharged?” he asked Katniss.

 

“Today,” Katniss said in a voice gruff with unshed tears.  Peeta wanted to hold on to her, to comfort her, but he kept his place.  “She’s coming home with me.  I’m bringing mom too.”  She looked up at him again and there was such naked need in her face that he almost gave in and put his arms around her but he couldn’t do it.  Part of it was out of respect for her mother, who he’d already caught observing them discretely, her mother’s sixth sense surely piqued by the disheveled appearance of the two of them together.  Peeta retreated inside of himself, desperate to recover some sense of professionalism, some way to gain control of a situation that had completely disarmed him.  His anxiety threatened to carry him away, and he struggled internally to reign it in.

 

“You better get ready to be spoiled,” he joked hesitantly, which brought a tired smile to Prim’s lips.  

 

“She’ll eat it up, won’t you, little duck?” her mother said gently, stroking Prim’s hair on the other side of the bed. Peeta felt numb.  The gesture was so comforting and sweet and was also something his own mother would never have given, and it made Peeta want to grovel for forgiveness.

 

Peeta wanted to apologize. He wanted to say something that would convey to her how very sorry he was that he’d been off his watch, that his actions had somehow allowed this to happen.  But the words died in his throat as Prim’s eyes fluttered closed.  Mrs. Everdeen signaled to both him and Katniss, and they all quietly left the room.

 

As they moved towards the waiting room, Peeta took a quick survey of the hospital ward.  It was closed and secured but he felt uneasy leaving Prim alone. To his relief, Gale and Thresh sat in the waiting room, reading the magazines available there.  At the sight of Peeta, Katniss, and Mrs. Everdeen, they rose respectfully.

 

“Who’s on right now?” Peeta asked.  Gale looked him up and down, his eyes doing nothing to hide his condemnation.

 

“We are,” Gale cocked his head towards Thresh.  “We made the _executive_ decision to stick to our schedule.  We’ll stay until discharge, which should be this afternoon.”  Peeta nodded curtly, drinking in Gale’s continued glare like a thirsty man brought to water, filling his soul with bile reserved only for himself.  

 

“Good. I’ll come with Brutus and change out with you.”

 

“You can’t do that,” Katniss blurted out, “I...I need you to stay here, with me.  I’m not leaving my sister.”  Peeta steeled himself against the agonized look in Katniss’ eyes, reminding himself to stay in control.

 

“Katniss…” he said gently. “I need to go to the police station...check on the house…. get things ready for Prim, right?”  He saw the strain in her eyes - the lost sleep and the stress of seeing her sister harmed - and resisted again the urge to hold on to her.  “You’ll be safe here with Gale and Thresh, and the hospital has its own security...I’ll come back when Prim is discharged and get you all home myself.  Is that okay?”

 

“I just need to see this asshole with my own eyes,” Katniss said with sudden fury.  Gale raised his eyebrows, exchanging a look with Peeta before he tried again.

 

“They won’t let you…” he said but she interrupted before he could finish.

 

“Mom,” Katniss cut him off, her mouth a line of grim determination.  “You’re staying here.  When Prim is home, we’ll send for a few of your things.  I’ll go to the police station with Peeta.”

 

“Katniss, please,” Peeta pleaded. “They’re still questioning him.  They won’t let anybody near him. Stay here with your family.  I’ll go sort a few things out, okay?”

 

“Yeah, Katniss. You’re just going to get yourself arrested if you try to go to the police station now, in the state you’re in,” Gale said.

 

“Listen to him,” her mother interjected. “I’ll stay with you.  I can always go by the house later and get a few things…”

 

“No!” Katniss snapped, “Nobody is going anywhere alone!”  Peeta knew she was close to hysterics.  He glanced at her mother, who gave him a knowing look before she nodded, pulling her daughter into an embrace.

 

“There’s a cafe downstairs.  We can go get some coffee now, okay?” Mrs. Everdeen said in a soothing voice.  Katniss’s bravado suddenly drained away and she nodded like a child would.  She appeared so miserable, Peeta was tempted to just stay with her.  But he had something important to attend to and he had to do it alone.  Her proximity confused his thoughts, making him jittery in a way that was not entirely unpleasant but did not help his concentration.  He gave her a small, encouraging smile before her mother led her away.

 

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Everdeen,” he called out, knowing Katniss was in good hands.

 

“Likewise. And thank you,” Mrs. Everdeen responded.

 

Peeta nodded, feeling sick inside, knowing he’d done nothing to earn those thanks.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta drove with quiet determination to Darius Flint's office, calling ahead so his friend would meet him outside the building.

 

“I’m sorry to hear about your client,” he said as he shook Peeta’s hand. “It’s all over the news.”

 

“Yeah,” Peeta said as he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the curls.  “Kind of came out of left field. And yet…”  Peeta could tell Darius already knew his thoughts by his vigorously nodding head.

 

“Right, it’s always obvious in hindsight.  You would never have guessed the little shit would go from love letters to American Psycho without escalation.  That’s a credit to you, Peet.  You probably didn’t give the fucker a chance to do anything else.”  Peeta shook his head, praise too much for someone who’d failed as bad as he had.

 

“I should have seen this coming, Darius. It’s psychology 101,” Peeta responded, relieved that he could at least unburden himself somewhat of the enormous guilt he was carrying.  “I can deal with getting outsmarted by Special Ops or some pissed off Taliban but not by some ten cent stalker.  It’s pretty fucked up.”

 

“Yeah, well, it does hurt the pride a bit,” Darius said, a little too dismissively for Peeta’s liking.  “So, what can I help you with?”

 

Peeta pulled out notes he’d made while he was stuck in traffic.  He’d scribbled everything he could remember about the events of the last several months on a notepad he kept in the car.  “Well, the guy’s got an accomplice.  He paid someone to go after Katniss.”

 

“You mean a hit man?” Darius said incredulously.  “So he goes for the sister, who he thinks is a sitting duck, with no protection and sends a gun after the Superstar because he knows he can’t get to her.”  Darius shook his head.  “That’s straight out of a B movie.”

 

“Yeah, and not a very good one either,” Peeta responded.

 

“So, you should be off the hook.  Your guy’s botched things up so badly, you can pretty much bet the other guy’s not going to come after your client now.”

 

Peeta shook his head.  “I’m not so sure.  Remember, my client was his primary objective.  He went after the sister out of pure revenge.”  His stomach clenched at his own words, trying to maintain his veneer of professional indifference before Darius.  He began pacing compulsively as he spoke.  “He was trying to hit her where it hurt the most by going after that girl.  So, his secondary objective might not have been successful but that’s no guarantee that Katniss is safe.  I’m not leaving it to chance and neither are the police.  Now, I’ve been reviewing things and wondering if there was an instance where the assassin would have tried to make a move and couldn’t.  I’m coming up blank, except for one incident.”

 

“Which one is that?” Darius asked, causing Peeta to stop as he answered.

 

“I need to know the identity of the driver that was detained the day of Katniss’ interview.  I need a copy of that police report.”

 

Darius frowned.  “You already asked me for this and I told you, I tried using some of my connections but the docket is open on this case.  If I go snooping around and get caught, I could be charged with interfering with a police investigation and lose more than just my job.”

 

“The police aren’t going to give me any names, Darius and I can’t wait for them,” Peeta said angrily.  “Katniss has a gala the day after tomorrow, which I’m going to try to talk her out of attending because it’s very public.  She’s going on tour soon, where she’ll be in front of thousands of people.  She might as well paint a target on her back because she’ll be completely exposed. But I know her and she won’t cancel anything.  She’s too goddamn stubborn to do that.”  He looked his friend directly in the eye. “I need to know who this guy is.  I just need to follow this lead.”

 

It was Darius’ turn to pace as he rubbed his face, his mind lost in thought.  Peeta watched him, crossing his fingers in desperate hopes that his friend would be able to help him with this.  

 

When he’d paced several more times, Darius stopped in front of Peeta. “I’ll get that intel for you. But you are going to name your first born after me, you got that?”

 

Peeta smiled, relieved, before clapping his hand on the burly, red-headed man’s shoulder. “I’ll _give_ you my firstborn, if that’s what it takes!”

 

Darius’ eyes went wide as he shook his head. “No way!  I’ve got three of my own.  I’m good,” he chuckled before he became serious again. “One thing you said was true - your client might not have anything to worry about or she might be in mortal danger.  It really depends on who this guy is so don’t take any stupid risks, okay?”

 

Peeta shrugged, unconcerned.  “You mean besides standing in front of an audience of ten thousand with nothing but your leather boots to protect you?  I deal with stupid risks every day.”

 

Darius’ guffaw drowned out the last of Peeta’s words.  “Oh, man, that’s a beautiful visual. Thanks for that.  My productivity is going to be shot for the rest of the day.”  Darius shook his head, laughter still rumbling in his chest. “I’ll do the best I can.  I want Katniss Everdeen to have a long life together with her leather boots.”

 

With that parting, Peeta took off for the compound to check on things before Katniss and her family came home.   He envied Darius, who would have the serenity to contemplate Katniss’ legs while Peeta’s mind spun with every possible scenario, his nightmares coming to life as he wrestled with how to best protect Katniss.  He’d dreamed that night, after they’d been together, of losing her forever.  To wake and find that, not only was she safe, but in his bed, comforting him, made him want to shout out with gratitude and happiness.

 

But now that she was in more danger than ever, he could not indulge himself in her any longer. He had to keep his focus, her safety being his only priority.  He would have to distance himself from her because he feared any distraction could cost her her life.  And at that point, if something happened to her, it would be better if the assassin took him out too, because deep down inside, it wasn’t just his conscience he was protecting. He couldn’t imagine how he’d move forward without her.

 

**XXXXX**

 

After securing the premises and checking in with his staff, Peeta and Brutus returned to the hospital, where they met Mrs. Everdeen at the discharge desk.  They wound their way to the employee entrance of the hospital where a nurse had been kind enough to redirect Katniss and Prim to fool the paps into thinking they were still inside.  Peeta settled Katniss, Mrs. Everdeen, and Prim into the back of a car while he took the seat next to Thresh. Gale, who had refused to leave, took a separate car with Brutus and followed them back home.

 

Peeta cast surreptitious glances into the rearview mirror, gauging Katniss’ physical condition.  She was exhausted, shocked, emotionally drained, and was visibly shaking.  He worried that she might be close to a breakdown.  Her distraught face trembled under the pressure of her grief, and he knew that she was holding it in for the sake of her mother and her sister.  It gutted Peeta to see her in that way and made him feel even worse about himself.  He would never forgive himself for this.

 

There were a handful of paps on hand as they wound their way up the driveway - most fully expecting her to be at the hospital.  Peeta was sure, now that she’d been seen, they would descend in full force onto the house.  Katniss glared at them murderously from behind her sunglasses and Peeta became truly afraid that, if one came within striking distance, Peeta would be defending the pap from Katniss and not the other way around.

 

As they drove around the front, Katniss barely waited for the car to be shut off before she was out of her seat, easing her sister from the back.  Madge and Johanna, who had arrived as soon as they knew of the attack, unfolded the wheelchair Katniss had sent to be purchased and seated Prim inside.  She would be settled in the ground floor guest suite with her mother, so she wouldn’t have to manage the stairs.  Peeta hung back, securing the car before performing his rounds yet again, as much to ensure that his doubled precautions were being enacted as to calm his own nerves.  He felt the exhaustion catch up to him all of a sudden and had to lean against the garden trellis to catch his breath.

 

He finally returned to his dependence long after it had become dark, sitting down for the first time since that afternoon.  Normally, he could find a way to relax, when he wasn’t home, as long as he was alone.  But after a day like today, he longed for the solitude of his canopied pond, watching the light of the moon glint off of the still surface.  His nerves refused to unravel for him, and he felt complete exhaustion and iron tension at the same time.  He considered running or working out but was too tired to follow through and decided on a long, hot shower instead.

 

The burning flow of water battered his clenched muscles until they slowly relaxed.  When he felt like he’d finally unwound enough, he searched for something quick to eat, settling on a sandwich.  Peeta couldn’t stand the thoughts that had been running through his head all afternoon and decided to turn on the television, flipping aimlessly through the channels.  He finally managed to relax enough until he felt himself dozing off when a knock on the door woke him.

 

Katniss stood before him, not unlike a few days ago, in her pajamas and robe, but there was more worry in her eyes this time.  Just like that day, she didn’t say a word, stepping inside to press the door closed.  She walked resolutely in the direction of his bedroom, pausing only to look over her shoulder and ask, “Are you coming?”  Her tone was impatient yet with a trace of something else, something plaintive like longing, calling out to him to follow her.

 

“Yes,” he answered, following her as if he were connected to her by invisible ropes that only she controlled.  The room was dark.  No one had pulled  the curtains open, and it was difficult to see except for the dim light of the corridor.

 

“Katniss…” he tried again but she shushed him with a sudden kiss.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she interjected, letting the robe fall to the ground, removing all of her clothes, and tossing everything into a pile at the foot of the bed.  Peeta backed away, recalling his determination to keep things cool and professional until he got the situation under control.  But his body was already betraying him.  He couldn’t help but feel a twitch in his pants at the sight of her now naked body before him.

“I need you,” she said with a trembling voice, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt.  She was biting her lip, trying her best not to cry. It was all it took to destroy his resolve.  He pulled her to him, running his hand over her dark hair and naked back.  

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered into her hair.  

It was all the permission she needed to fall apart.  He held her as sobs rocked her body, whispering into her ear.  Every tear, every fit of suffering was an accusation against him. He should have been able to stop this somehow - that was the only thought that he could hold in his mind.  He would have done anything, absolutely anything, to spare her this suffering and it made him more and more upset with himself until he couldn’t bear himself any longer.  By this time, Katniss had worn herself out and he picked her up, carrying her to his bed.  Pulling back the blankets, he tucked her in, fully intending on letting her sleep in his room while he retired to the sofa but she tugged at him, silently imploring him to come to her.

“Katniss…” he begged, as if she would be the one to give him strength.  He felt all of his good intentions crashing to the ground, and he knew he could no more deny her than he could deny himself air to breathe. She tugged at his pants and he straightened to obey her silent petition, removing his clothes before slipping in beside her.  But instead of sleep, he found her mouth on his neck and chest, her hands capturing his cock, making it harden instantly.  He felt that it was wrong somehow, that he was taking advantage of her and pulled away but she clung tightly to him.

 

“Are you sure, Katniss?” he groaned as she stroked him, bringing him to attention with a few swift brushes of her hand.

 

“Yes. I need you,” she said brokenly.

 

He nodded, reaching back to rummage in the small drawer of his end table to pull out the small pouch.  He peered at the square, silver packaging, handing it to her.  “Hasn’t expired yet,” he whispered, to which her tear-splotched face split into a small smile as she pulled it open and rolled it onto him.  She tugged him over her, widening her legs and guiding him inside of her, her eyes locked on his as if daring him to deny her but Peeta couldn’t turn away if his life depended on it.  It surprised him, the limitless nature of his desire for her, how even after such harrowing circumstances, he would still find in himself the need to get lost in her.  It frightened him as much as anything had in his life.

 

He sank into her with smooth fluidity.  She was ready for him, her warm depths drawing him in, trapping and caressing him as he moved, at first slowly, testing her, giving her a chance to withdraw.  He felt like he was invading her private grief, even though she had willingly opened herself to him, first with her tears and then with her body.  Even so, he felt unworthy of her, and sought from her a confirmation, in word or action, that she sincerely wanted him this way.

 

She gave him this by pulling him down to kiss her, wrapping her legs around his waist.  For her size, she was surprisingly strong and Peeta would have found himself in some difficulty to pull himself away from her, even if that was what he wanted. Which he didn’t.  He wanted to drown in her, suffocate in depths so dark, he’d lose the ability to see and breath and think.  He felt a bolt of fear again at how much he wanted from Katniss - as if the concept of _everything_ were quantifiable.  He would even take this - her grief, her guilt and her agony - and make them all his also.

 

As he plunged deeper into her, she clung harder, her legs dropping to either side of him to leverage her upward strokes, her hips rising to meet his.  There was so much fury in her answering thrusts that Peeta felt himself swiftly approach his limit.  As he kissed her, he brought his hand between them and rubbed her, tight concentric circles that promised she would have her pleasure also.  He felt her walls begin to tighten around him and closed his eyes to savor the sensation of her around him, tweaking her nipples as he sank more slowly into her, drawing out both of their pleasure.  Katniss moaned, silently begging him to let her finish.  With a decisive sweep of her clit, she stiffened beneath him as the explosion of her body took over.

 

She gasped, “Peeta!” then louder, “Peeta!”

 

The sound of his name on her lips pushed him over the edge, as his body convulsed with its own release.  He pushed on, trying to give her every last bit of himself until he collapsed into a heap of exhaustion over her, his mouth seeking hers out to kiss her, in gratitude, and shame.  He silently begged her forgiveness and just as wordlessly, she gave it.  As she kissed him back with equal fervor, it came to him in frightening clarity that he loved her, utterly and completely.  The revelation crashed through him like a tidal wave upon a rocky shore.  He was at her mercy in every way and the realization of his unequivocal defeat at her hands was not as surprising as it should have been but was just as terrifying all the same.

 

Peeta held onto her as they came down from their high and the exhaustion finally caught up with her.  As he stroked her arms and legs, his hands warming her skin, he watched her eyes flutter closed as she drifted off to sleep.  He felt an unbearable tenderness towards her - she was so small, after all, and a person who didn’t know her could not be blamed for thinking her delicate, almost waif-like.  Peeta wanted to run his finger along her jaw-line, the proud column of her neck and the smooth sweetness of her collarbone.  

 

He wanted to protect her so badly and he no longer felt like he was any good at doing that.  He was miserable over his failure, and, in addition to all the other feelings he could usually kept hidden under his cool professionalism - self-hatred, anger, and disappointment.  He didn’t deserve someone like her and though everything inside of him shattered loudly, like an exploding china cabinet, he made his decision.  As much as he was sure he loved her, he also knew that he couldn’t continue to take from her.  He was no good for her, was barely able to protect her, and it was better they both understood that now before things got further out of hand than they already were.

 

As he carefully untangled himself, he was sure he’d be able to slip out quietly without waking her. However, seated at the edge of the bed, he felt Katniss’ hand on his shoulder.

 

“You have to be as tired as I am,” she said with a voice raspy from sleep.

 

“Yeah, but after what happened last night, I can’t just stay in bed.  It would be worse than unprofessional.  It would be negligence,” he answered. “I’m going to check on things one more time.”

 

“I know,” Katniss agreed drowsily.  “I probably should check on Prim.”

 

“No, she has to be asleep by now and you need your rest too,” he said, turning to stroke her skin and pulling his hand back as if burned.  He had to remember his resolve and not be drawn in again.

 

But Katniss was not stupid.  As he withdrew his hand, she captured it and held it to her face.  He was certain it was more in challenge than for any comfort.  She watched him as he slowly pulled away.  

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said as he left the bed and quickly got dressed.  He couldn’t look at her.  If he did, he would break in half, give up his resolve completely, and crawl right back between the sheets and to her side again.  In his grief-addled brain, he knew this thing between them could ultimately result in her being hurt, and he’d visit this agony onto himself before seeing anything happen to her.  He would not be able to endure that.

 

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” she said helplessly as she sat up, watching him pull his t-shirt on.  He didn’t answer, continuing to dress as if she hadn’t spoken.

 

“Would you stop for a minute?” Katniss snapped angrily, dragging a blanket around her as she stepped out of bed.  She placed a hand on his to still the flurry of movement.  “Talk to me.  Don’t just get up and run away.”

 

“I...can’t...this…” he stuttered.  Though he could be so good with words, he felt like a bumbling idiot.  “I can’t protect you like this,” he said, his heart practically pounding between each syllable he uttered.  “I need to be objective and focused and I’ve lost that with you.”  He looked at her finally, taking in her increasingly pained expression.  “I can’t take care of you if I can’t look at you and see a client.  Right now, I’m emotionally compromised.”

 

She stared at him for a moment, the fire in her eyes brightening, becoming more intense with each passing moment.  Without warning, she said, “You’re stupid.”

 

“What?” he said, the abruptness of her speech having caught him by surprise and he felt aggrieved by her words. “You don’t have to insult me.”

 

“Yes, I do,” she said, the color rising beneath her cheeks.  “I can be pretty emotionally clueless sometimes but I know I didn’t misread you,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You appeared...happy, maybe even a little bit ecstatic when you were with me.  And you seem to be doing a good job with your work.”

 

“I’m not doing a good job at all!  What happened to Prim - I should have been able to anticipate that and I didn’t!”  His fists clenched and unclenched uncontrollably, and he could feel himself losing control.  The fear rolled through him again.  “Revenge 101 - hurt your target as deeply as possible by attacking those closest to her.  Textbook fucking revenge, and I dropped the ball because I wasn’t focused.  I was too busy…”

 

“Too busy fucking me?  Is that what you mean?” she spat.

 

Peeta looked at her, aghast.  “Katniss…” he said, suddenly realizing that her anger was of such proportions, she appeared to grow in physical stature, becoming more and more terrifying with each moment that passed.

 

“So, because you can’t hold down a job and fuck me at the same time, you just decide to ditch me?  Is that your brilliant solution to the problem?!”   

 

Peeta took a step back from her fury.  “You need someone who can do his job!” he shouted.  “And stop referring to what we do as just fucking!  I was never just fucking you!”

 

“Well, the way you’re acting, you might as well have been a hit and run!”  Katniss had been closing the space between them, and she now stood almost nose to nose with Peeta, her hands clenched into knuckle-white fists on her hips.  “You are an arrogant, stupid man, Peeta Mellark!  You think that if you eat in a certain order or dress in a certain way, that you will suddenly have control of the entire universe.  Well, here’s a news flash for you - you can’t control everything!”

 

Peeta felt the color drain from his face.  “I never said…” he began but she wasn’t listening to him any longer.

 

“It’s not your fault  Finnick died, just like it’s not your fault that Prim got hurt.”

 

He flinched as if slapped, stunned into speechlessness before he recovered, her face still just inches from his.  

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with his own mounting fury.  But her words had hit the mark with each pronouncement she made and it was difficult to deny the truth.  “My job was to keep you and your sister safe.  I got distracted and she was almost killed.  I can’t let that happen again.  If you were even remotely serious about your safety, you would just go ahead and fire me!” he said, his voice having risen until he was nearly shouting at the end.  He turned with the pretence of searching for something, as much as to gain distance from Katniss as to calm down.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Katniss said, following him so that he was forced to look at her again.  “You would love it if I did that so you can just slink off to your lonely little pond and paint your self-pity all by yourself because that’s easier than risking your life by actually living it.”  She bowed her head to catch his gaze, which had fallen downcast onto the floor.  “If you want to leave and get another job, you’re going to have to give your notice like any other employee.  I have no grounds for firing you, and I’m not giving you an easy out.”

 

Peeta studied her determined face, the urge to kiss her blinding every other thought in his mind and his self-loathing immediately kicked in again.  Of course, how could anyone think under such circumstances?  He had never once met a person who befuddled his mind so completely, he was afraid he’d never be able to think straight again.

 

“Well, then I’m giving you my notice.  When Boggs comes back, I’ll appraise him of the changes I’ve made and the situation with the assassin, which I believe will be resolved by then, and turn the position over to him.  You don’t need two heads of security.”  Peeta felt numb as he took the few short steps to the bedroom door, unable to resist glancing back at Katniss as he opened it.

 

She stood speechless, staring at him in complete bafflement, as if she were rooted to the ground. Her disheveled hair, white blanket wrapped around her like a tunic, and wild expression of anger made her look like a Greek goddess, ready to unleash her displeasure in a magnificent display of divine power.  He had never loved her more than at that moment.  She held herself so still, he wondered if she had entered into a state of shock.  However, when he closed the door behind him, he heard the clatter of something heavy being thrown against it, with so much force, it was enough to rattle the door in it’s frame.  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to my wonderful betas, bubblegum1425, solasvioletta, katnissdoesnotfollowback and peetabreadgirl. Special shoutout to bubblegum1425 for really taking the time to let me chat her to death about this fic even though she is beginning her residency and moving into an important phase of her life. I appreciate her so much!
> 
> Two more parts and an epilogue! I'm looking forward to your comments and will be responding to them as soon as I can! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity in reviewing.


	12. Part 11

 

**_Don't make me close one more door_ **

**_I don't wanna hurt anymore_ **

**_Stay in my arms if you dare_ **

**_Or must I imagine you there_ **

**_Don't walk away from me..._ **

**_I have nothing, nothing, nothing_ **

**_If I don't have you_ **

 

**from _I Have Nothing_ by Whitney Houston**

 

_He had been distracted.  There were so many other things he should have been doing - instead, he’d been in the middle of a particularly intense sketching sprint when his mother pounded on his bedroom door._

 

_“I called you five times, you idiot!” she snapped when he opened the door. “I need you on shift.  Your brother is running an errand for me.”_

 

_Peeta was still under the spell of his sketch as he followed his mother downstairs from the apartment they lived in above the bakery.  It was a magical feeling when he settled down to draw, the way the pencil seemed to take on a life of its own, flying across the paper as if possessed.  For a while, he inhabited a special state that he found impossible to describe. He would learn much later on in life that what he’d discovered was his “flux” or “zone.” But at the age of twelve, he simply didn’t have the means to describe what he felt when inspiration, the perfect subject, and his natural talent intersected to transport him beyond himself.  It had been so powerful at that moment, his mother had had to call him several times before resorting to practically breaking down his bedroom door to get his attention.  The pinched look of displeasure on her face as she descended the stairs to the bakery showed she was still fuming over it._

_He wanted to protest and tell her that it wasn’t his turn to work the ovens. He had homework, after all, though he’d never admit to his mother that he was “doodling,” as she liked to call his drawings, no matter how brilliant they were.  He had a science project that he had been procrastinating on in favor of his sketch - a field of dandelions under a sky so blue, it made every fiber of his being ache for summertime.  He was behind on his assignments and had already worked the ovens three nights in a row._

_But he knew better than to even hint at dissent.  He might burn with anger and frustration but he had learned at a young age that he wasn’t to show displeasure.  Not to his mother. Disobedience would not be tolerated and even the slightest association with a rebellious thought would be squashed with ruthless ferocity. Her dominion would not be questioned and every time he’d pretended to find the courage to fight her, he’d discovered that the odds were never, ever in his favor._

_So he dissimulated. He concealed and camouflaged.  He would work the ovens, tend to customers, and everything else she asked, while inside, he would continue to sketch his vision with the invisible stylus of his imagination. That was the only form of rebellion he could ever allow himself._

**XXXXX**

Katniss had to be persuaded but she finally made her appearance at the press conference held on the steps of the police station. She wore large sunglasses to hide the dark circles under her eyes and spoke with the voice of a lawyer or a politician, reading a statement that invited no dialogue from the host of reporters. However, even with her somber pronouncements that her sister was in good health and that she would be focusing on recovering from the attack, the crowd of reporters erupted at the end with barrage of questions. Without another word, Katniss turned and left the podium, replaced by Effie, who answered them while Peeta escorted Katniss away from the stage.

They walked down a corridor, Peeta’s eyes carefully sweeping his surroundings.  He made every effort to not look directly at Katniss as she held her head slightly inclined downwards, just as equally determined to ignore him.   _It’s better this way_ , he said to himself, over and over like a mantra, even though he felt like he’d dug a hole in his soul and was falling head-first into it.

When they’d reached the car, he opened the door as he always did, waiting patiently for Katniss to step inside, but the curb caught her heel and she stumbled.  Without a second thought, Peeta caught her around her waist and helped her get her bearings.  It was electric, the feel of her skin against his, even through the material of her dress.  She looked up and held his gaze, despite the opaque barrier of her sunglasses. He was absolutely positive she was staring at his lips, or maybe he was transmuting his own desire to kiss her onto her.  He was starved for any word, any touch from her, even a look from her half-hidden eyes, now so disdainful and angry.   He wondered if, despite her pique, she hungered for him in the same way.

 

She never gave him the satisfaction of knowing because she broke away first and continued into the car, staring resolutely out of the tinted car windows, clearly determined not to look at him.  Haymitch and Effie followed and finally, Peeta shut the door, taking the seat next to Thresh in the front with a heavy heart. As they drove away, he felt the divider between the driver’s cabin and the limousine’s passenger section close, sealing them away from each other.

 

**XXXXX**

“I’m sorry, Peeta, but it’s a closed rehearsal today,” Haymitch said as Peeta made to open the sound studio door.

“Again?” he said but decided against arguing with the older man blocking the sound room door. On the surface, it was perfectly reasonable that Katniss would want to spend her last day in the studio, rehearsing for her solo performance for the Museum of Modern Art Gala that weekend.  She was the headline event, the main draw, besides the museum itself, for fundraising this year.  As long as she was in the studio, she was safe and he had no reason to disturb her.

But he knew it was also a strategic decision on her part to lock herself away and avoid him.  The last few days had been unbearable, at least for him.  He went to bed, having run himself ragged with endless tasks so he wouldn’t have to think about how much he missed her, and the cycle repeated itself the next day as well. It was one thing to miss a person who was far away and out of reach. It was another feeling altogether to miss a person who was always present, their very existence a reminder of unattainable dreams and frustrated desires.  He fell into bed each night, wracked with nightmares and found no relief in waking.

His thinking had carried him so far out of the moment, he didn’t realize that Haymitch was still standing before him until he heard the older man snapping his fingers right before his nose.

“Wake up!  Did you hear what I said?  Katniss is rehearsing today and then Effie, Cressida, and Portia are going to fit her for a dress for the Gala,” Haymitch said.

“Yeah, I heard you.  Just let Katniss…” her name stumbled ungracefully from his mouth, “...let Katniss know I’m going to check out the concert venue. I’ll be back soon.”

Haymitch gave Peeta a penetrating look that made him suddenly feel exposed like a cracked oyster shell. “What is it?”

The older man made to speak but shook his head. “Never mind.  You just look like you could use a shot of whiskey, or a friend.”

Peeta shook his head, knowing neither of those two things would help. “How...how is she doing?” he asked suddenly before he could stop himself.  He wanted to kick himself for being so obviously lovesick.

Haymitch, who was clearly too old to be fooled by Peeta’s persistent show of stoic disregard, continued to peer at him, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin with his hand. “She’s a goddamned bigger pain in the ass than usual and that’s saying a lot, since sweetheart is an epic pain by default.”  He pulled Peeta away from the rehearsal room, lead him down the hallway, and up out of the basement onto the main floor of the house.  He took a decanter from the bar, its caramel colored liquid sloshing in protest at having been disturbed from its resting place and set two shot glasses on the table.  

“It’s too early for me,” Peeta demurred.

“It’s never too early from some liquid courage, especially when you’re bleeding your sorrows all over the place. Here,” he handed Peeta a shot, which made Peeta involuntarily wrinkle his nose.  Haymitch clinked his glass against Peeta’s before taking his shot, swallowing it without so much as a grimace while Peeta almost gagged on the whiskey.

“Now, it’s none of my business, boy.  You and Katniss are grown-ups and perfectly free to make your mistakes and pay for them like anybody else.” He set his glass down and refilled it, offering Peeta another shot, which Peeta politely declined with a wave of his hand.

“Effie does like your military manners. Anyway…” he took the second shot. “I get paid pretty well for what I do.  But when Katniss is unhappy, she doesn’t go around crying her eyes out or doing any of that. She’ll stay in bed usually, if she can get away with it, which she can’t now, because of the Gala.  Or,” Haymitch slammed his empty shot glass down on the counter, clearly taking his frustration out on the small, sturdy object. “She just gets irritable and pissed off and there isn’t enough money in the world to make that any easier to deal with.”

Peeta squirmed. As much as he appreciated Haymitch’s role in Katniss’s life, he did not want to discuss the vagaries of their romantic entanglement with her manager. “What does that have to do with me?”

Haymitch shook his head, a wry chuckle escaping him. “Everything. If she even hears so much as your name, she acts like her sister’s damned mangy cat.  The claws come out and she hisses. You need to make it up with her - whatever it is - because she’s just about impossible.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna work, Haymitch.” Peeta set his own glass down inside the sink on the other side of the counter.  

Haymitch snorted. “Well, something’s gotta give. The only person she’s nice to is her sister and that’s because the poor girl’s got a concussion, and her mother, who she’s never really ever mean to anyway. Everyone else is fair game, and we all know that it has something to do with you.”

Peeta straightened his tie, pushing off of the bar counter where he was leaning. “I got nothing for you.  I’m sorry.  I think you’re just going to have to keep earning your pay.”  He let the mask of indifference fall over his features again, much to Haymitch’s evident displeasure.  He was not about to share how deep the breach was between him and Katniss. “I’ll be back this afternoon.  You know the drill - don’t let her go out alone.”

“Pfft, as if I could stop her,” Haymitch answered, pouring himself another drink.

Peeta rushed out of the house, practically sprinting towards his car and away from his conversation with Haymitch. He could have had Thresh take him where he needed to go or he could have even just taken one of several vehicles idling on property. But he wanted his car because he wanted to feel the engine roar beneath his feet. He needed speed to clear his head.  

He was reaching a tipping point - he missed Katniss so much, his insides hurt. The added stress of actually seeing her, subject to her reproach every time he even so much as glanced at her was making everything he did that much more difficult.  She couldn’t lie, she could barely keep any secrets because her face gave everything away. And her face told him that she was not forgiving him any time soon.

His thoughts returned to Annie’s party, to the way everyone had reacted to “Kat,” including Tristan, who had decided that he liked her very much.  He remembered the model train, the small pond, and the night - the single most amazing night of his life.  And he knew, in his bones, it would have only gotten better with Katniss, maybe even approached perfection, if what was between them had been allowed to grow. Everything with her just worked, like the sides of a complex puzzle suddenly fitting into place.  He suddenly wished he had never seen that possibility, nor known that idyllic feeling of having found something so right, it seemed reserved just for him alone. Nothing would ever measure up again.

There was no real solution for self-inflicted broken-heartedness. He just had to suck it up and push forward.  One thing his life had taught him was how to live with frustration and endure unhappiness.  He was a pro at that - there was no amount of self-denial too great for him.  Even if he became bitter and miserable from his soul’s wanting, he had an impressive ability to say no to himself. That was one thing he could thank his mother for.

He would wait for Darius’s phone call.  He would get Katniss through this Gala and onto her tour.  And then, he would disappear and hope what they said was true -  that time really does heal everything.

**XXXXX**

Peeta had visited the museum a few times in his life and recalled wandering the corridors, riveted by the lavish abundance of art - so varied, it always filled him with desperation for all the art that he knew existed and might never be able to see.  Even now, with all the current disappointments and stresses, he felt the familiar longing - to study and create the way the works around him had been created. He wanted his work to be on someone’s walls and to be appreciated one day, a dream he’d had ever since he understood the way these things worked.  He had dreamed of someday becoming a master himself.  It was a secret he’d shared with only a few people and even now that the path was probably closed to him, he still felt that familiar ache just beneath his breastbone.

The dinner would be held in the elegant ballroom reserved for such events, all catered by one of the most exclusive restaurants in Panem City.  There were the usual defects of exposure - open layout, a small stage with virtually no separation between the singer from the audience, numerous exits and entries to the exhibits: the main atrium, as well as a servant’s entrances. He hoped to petition Officer Cartwright for a police presence inside the Gala but given the fact that the property was owned and managed privately, he would need Mr. Heavensbee’s permission to place those men during the gala event itself.

So he’d asked to meet with the chair of the committee organizing the event this year. As the secretary left to fetch Mr. Heavensbee, Peeta studied the committee chair’s lavish reception area, indulging himself by studying the small Mesopotamian statues in a glass case - pieces that were primitive yet haunting in their beauty.  Some were carved in volcanic rock, some in marble, ivory, or stone - any substance that could be found.

One artifact in particular drew his attention over and over - the figure of a naked woman, heavy with child. She had been carved out of granite and appeared to glow from somewhere deep within the stone. Her graceful limbs were long and powerful, while her belly swelled with her blossoming offspring. From a deep recess inside, Peeta felt the memory of Tristan’s infancy came forth unbidden.  He had stared in wonder at the tiny baby in the pictures Annie sent Finnick and remembered holding him as a baby.   He had seen Annie only once when she was pregnant before he and Finnick set off for their final, fateful assignment.

His memory was his enemy as he suddenly replaced the face of that woman before him with Katniss’s.  He envisioned her small figure heavy with his child, her skin shiny from the gift she carried in her womb. He was seized by a joy similar to what he felt during that ephemeral night when Katniss had briefly belonged to him.  He conjured a powerful image of her, lying on her side, with him pressed closely behind her, cradling her heavy belly in his hands. Unlike the other fantasies and memories he’d had lately, he did not chase this one away, letting the small thumping movements of the child pressing upwards beneath his hand lull him into a fog of well-being, for once ignoring the voice that told him it could not be, that he did not deserve it. For a brief instant, he did deserve it, and he selfishly treated himself to this illusion of his happiness.

His state of bliss lasted until the secretary politely cleared her throat.  Peeta’s return to the real world was so abrupt, it felt like a physical blow, but he recovered his demeanor quickly and followed the young woman to the office just adjacent to her work area.

“Mr. Heavensbee is waiting for you,” she said, indicating to the door behind her.  Peeta entered to find the same lavish furnishings - heavy, winged leather arm chairs, ponderous mahogany and cherry wood bookshelves laden down with books featuring art from other galleries, photographs, magazine covers, photography collections - anything that had to do with the physical arts.  Peeta itched to leaf through every single one as he sometimes did when he visited the bookstore and stood in awe of the collection of books featuring art of any kind.  He was so engrossed, he overlooked Mr. Heavensbee as he greeted him from the center of the room.

“Mr. Mellark,” he said, taking Peeta’s hand with a thick, pudgy one of his own and shaking it vigorously. He was a man of about sixty who had lived an abundant and comfortable life, given the smooth skin of his fingertips.  “Let me be the first to say how very excited we are to have Ms. Everdeen performing this weekend. This museum is completely dependent on the patronage and generosity of members of the entertainment and business community.”  Peeta noticed him turn and remove a handkerchief from his pocket and wipe his hand, which Peeta found less annoying as he did amusing. “How did you find the premises?”

“I’ve spoken to your security personnel and everything appears to be in order. You’ve heard about Ms. Everdeen’s sister?” Peeta asked, opting for the direct approach.

“Ah yes...please sit down. I apologize. I forgot my manners.” Heavensbee shuffled behind his desk. “You have my condolences. I hope the child is recovering?”

Peeta felt his face harden against the man.  She was a college student, bound for medical school. She could hardly be called a child and a chairperson who was about to host said victim’s sister as the highlight performance of their fundraiser should have been diligent enough to understand and convey the correct information. “She has the summer to recuperate before she returns to her college classes.”

If Mr. Heavensbee realized his faux pas, he didn’t give it away, instead clearing his throat as if to encourage Peeta onward in his explanation.

“I’m working in conjunction with the Panem City Police Department, who is willing to provide extra duty police presence during the Gala to ensure Ms. Everdeen’s safety.  I would need your consent to have them inside the performance area.“  Peeta pulled out a very detailed drawing of the concert venue. “I think you can appreciate the need, given the circumstances of last week’s attack.”

Heavensbee poured over the schematic, seemingly engrossed in it, but Peeta’s instincts told him he had already decided on the request, an impression confirmed by Mr. Heavensbee’s next words.  “I appreciate Ms. Everdeen’s position but she appears to have an impressive security contingent as it is. There are other performers with their own security which are already being overshadowed by your team, given the delicacy of her current situation.” The stout man leaned back in his chair, causing it to creak slightly in protest. “I do not want my Gala to appear as if it is being hosted by a totalitarian government - that is not the impression this museum should ever give.”

Peeta took a deep breath, before directing the man to the drawing. “You have gaps in security here, here. and here,” pointing out specific areas on the schematic as he spoke.  “Your collections are virtually impenetrable but you are opening an entire wing of your museum to over seven hundred people, and you haven’t added one extra person to your team.” He pulled out another list to indicate the ratio of staff to patrons on the night of the performance. “We are talking about a woman’s life, Mr. Heavensbee, not to mention any innocent bystanders who might be caught in the crossfire.” Peeta paused to allow his next point to sink in. “Dead patrons can’t write checks.”

The older man ignored the dig, smiled benignly, an expression that did not reach his eyes. This, more than anything else, told Peeta that his cause was doomed. He’d stopped listening almost since the beginning of the discussion, and Peeta had never felt more discouraged.

“The PCPD will already have a presence on the premises…” Mr. Heavensbee said.

“But not in the performance hall,” Peeta countered.

“As I said, the PCPD already have a strong presence. Unless they have received an invitation to the Gala as patrons, I must deny your request. There is no reason to alarm my guests any further.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have details to attend to pertaining to this weekend’s festivities.” At that he stood, extending his hand to Peeta. “I truly look forward to seeing your client perform this weekend. Such a rare beauty and an exquisite voice,” he said as he escorted Peeta to the door.

Peeta, who was fuming at this point and did not want to accidentally offend the man, gave him a curt nod before following the exit signs to the lobby.  He knew he would end up punching a wall before the day was up and could not help the growing sense of dread that was consuming him. Nothing was working out for him and he’d never felt so low.

**XXXXX**

Peeta returned from the museum to find the main house turned upside down for Katniss’s dress fitting. Her performance at the Gala was one of the most anticipated events of the year and Effie was twisted in knots ensuring that the publicity was flawless, while Haymitch managed the preparations for the tour.  It was, in short, the usual madhouse and after a bit, Peeta gave up trying to make sense of it all.  

A mock stage was set up in the dance studio and there was the usual bustle of assistants, dancers, singers, all directed by Effie with military precision. And in the middle of the chaos, representing the only fixed point in a whirlwind of activity, was Katniss, appearing to flicker like a candle on an altar.  The sight of her stopped him, not just because every cell of his body ached to touch her but because she was truly radiant. Her dress was a deep orange color, the material affixed with strategically placed chips of reflective crystal that made her look like a shimmering ray of dying sunlight reflected on water.  Every move, every shift of her body changed the reflection of light over the surface of the dress.

Peeta’s treacherous mind, which would torment him to the very end with its pyrrhic gift of never forgetting, was seared with the image of her hands slightly raised, her profile angled downwards, and the dress appearing to swallow her body in flames.  He knew this would play over and over in his dreams, further tormenting him.

When Peeta could think again, he made an effort to tear his eyes from her and survey her environment, taking into account the people surrounding her. In particular, he noticed a handsome man who was, at the moment, kneeling at her feet, showing her something on the hem of her dress. Peeta’s cocked his head sideways as he studied the dark-skinned man, his face now turned upwards towards Katniss in naked adoration.  Peeta couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy at the liberal way the man touched Katniss - her dress, her skin even, a privilege Peeta no longer possessed.

“She looks great, doesn’t she?” came a sharp voice from his side, the sound of which sliced through his thoughts like an ax.  Peeta turned to see Johanna glaring at him with her fierce brown eyes.

“That’s Cinna, isn’t it?” he asked, choosing to ignore the look of accusation in her eyes, a look he had seen too much of lately.

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s going to make her ‘unforgettable.’  His words, of course. He says Katniss is his favorite celebrity to work with.   She’s so spoiled when it comes to him and her dresses.”  Lines of displeasure appeared around her face, deepening with every moment she spoke to him. “You know, looking at you, I can get how she’d be pissed off,” she said, staring at him until he squirmed in discomfort.

 _Not again_. “Johanna…”

“I told her when I first saw you, if you were a flower, you’d be a damnnnnnnedelion,” She guffawed as Peeta rolled his eyes. “Seriously, though, I had higher hopes for you.  I guess she’s not the only brainless one around here.”

She straightened up, shaking out her short, dark hair as she smirked at him. “Don’t worry though, she’ll get over you in no time.”

Peeta suddenly lost his patience. “I don’t want to talk about this with you…”

“She’s the most fuckable woman in the business,” she continued, ignoring his protests.  “Everyone, and I mean, everyone - old, young, married, single, hell even gay or straight - tries to get with her,” Johanna sniffed, wiping her nose with her forefinger, appearing very young and so much more vulnerable than she really was.  “She’ll hook up eventually and all these sleepless nights will be just another obstacle she’s overcome.  Maybe she’ll even write a song about it.”  She quirked her head at him as she finished, the challenge in her eyes blatantly obvious.

Peeta had nothing to say to her taunting, howling internally at the idea of another set of hands touching Katniss, another mouth kissing her.  He thought of someone else listening to the breathy sounds he’d elicited from her - gasps and whimpers that even now made him heartsick just to recall them.  He didn’t want to play this game anymore.

“Yep,” Johanna continued to study him, perhaps hoping for a visible reaction to her words.  “Someone’s going to snap her up, and you’ll be just another memory.”

He struggled to keep his face impassive but the mask slipped as his mind became fixated with the thought of Katniss in someone else’s arms. Johanna had succeeded in turning his stomach, his vivid imagination supplying the details that her words had only hinted at.  She’d hit him where it hurt, destabilizing his carefully constructed equilibrium.

“Whoever she ends up with will be a very lucky person,” he said through clenched teeth, and he knew his tone all but confirmed that he’d failed at remaining composed.

“Hmm, hmm,” she said appreciatively, giving him a sly wink and sauntering off with the bristling air of victory radiating from her.

Peeta felt his face darken in anger.  He turned on his heel, lost in a haze of jealousy and humiliation and stomped away, looking for any task, no matter how menial, to distract him from images of Katniss with anyone else but him.

**XXXXX**

“Look, don’t snap at me, buddy,” Gale groused as Peeta went over the assignments for the Gala.  

“I’m not snapping at you,” Peeta answered, crumpling the paper in his hand. “You didn’t see the venue. I did. I want the stage covered.”

“Dude, you just told me Heavensbee didn’t want a big security presence near the stage during the performance!”

“I know!” Peeta banged the table and stood up quickly, pacing to the window.  “The woman’s sister was just attacked by a crazed fucking lunatic and there is someone out there probably just itching to get at her, and I can’t even get a couple of guys to flank her on a stage because Heavensbee doesn’t want the Gala to be upstaged by Katniss’s _drama_.”  

Gale shrugged, but his face also darkened.  “He’s not worried about Katniss. He’s worried about making as much money as possible and keeping the mood of the night. He’s always been that way.  Look...” Gale moved to stand next to Peeta indicating the layout. “We’ll wear the penguin suits, though that means no vests, we’ll look like patrons and take those four stations here,” he said, pointing at the diagram of the dining area. “Two guys here,” he pointed at the flanking exits on each side of the performance hall, “...and leave some guys here at the guest entrances to the front. That’s the best you’re going to get.” Gale folded the crumpled paper and handed it back to Peeta.  

“I’ll stay on stage with Katniss,” Peeta said stubbornly.

“It’s going to be real busy before Katniss gets on to sing.” Peeta’s face didn’t soften as he stared down at the folded schematic, knowing the man was right  “Just take a place and don’t move. You’re good at being obstinate,” Gale quipped with a light punch to the arm, but Peeta’s misery only deepened.

Darius hadn’t called him. Heavensbee certainly wasn’t cooperating with him, and he felt like everyone was looking at him as if he was wearing his ass on his head.  And Katniss...she couldn’t stand the sight of him.  He was tired, irritable, stressed, and just plain frustrated with everyone and everything around him.

He didn’t realize Gale was staring at him until he looked up and realized he’d gone into his angry thoughts without a word.  He cleared his throat and took the paper from Gale’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m good at that,” he said, folding it carefully and putting it in his jacket pocket.

Gale shook his head.  “You look like shit, Mellark.  You need to get some sleep or something.  Katniss is going out tonight.  I’ll go with her and you can take a break.”

“Katniss is going out? Who said?” Peeta’s head snapped up.  “No one told me anything.”

“It was a last minute thing. Prim’s getting better and she wants to take her out to dinner. I thought you knew.”

Peeta shook his head, angry but too tired to express it.  He had to resign himself to Katniss cutting him out of her life. The day had gone from bad to worse, and he had hit rock bottom.  He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.  “I’d better go find out what the boss wants me to do.”

Gale whistled, shaking his head. “And here I was, worried about her.  I’ll go ask her.  Don’t want you to start crying all over her or something.”

“Fuck you, Gale,” Peeta hissed as he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.  He really wasn’t sure how much worse this day could get but he couldn’t put off a confrontation with Katniss any longer.  He was already feeling terrible but the sound of Gale’s snide chuckles mocked him as he went in search of his employer.

**XXXXX**

Katniss was no longer with Cinna, which pleased Peeta to no end because he didn’t think he’d have been able to take it.  He searched for her until he found her on the upstairs balcony, sipping  tea in a rare moment of solitude.  He paused in his approach to take in her form, reclining with her legs curled under her on the chaise lounge. She stared out over the property at the stark tree-line of the surrounding woods, cut off from her by the high security fence. Her longing for them was an almost palpable third presence in the room.

“I think of all the things that have happened these last months, it’s the loss of my woods that I resent the most,” she said, loud enough for him to hear.  

Peeta stiffened, knowing he’d been discovered. “How did you know I was here?” he asked, stepping from behind her so that she would not have to twist around to look at him. He needn’t have feared, though. She was studiously avoiding looking at him.

Katniss gave a dry, mirthless snort, as if the answer should have been obvious to anyone. “You stomp like an elephant. Whoever told you that you were silent lied to you.”

Peeta had nothing to say to that, the ache of standing next to her too great to allow him to think coherently, so he held on to his original purpose instead.  “You’re going out tonight?”

She shook her head, chuckling to herself again. “Information travels quickly here,” she said, the sarcasm thick in her voice. “Yeah, I want to take Prim out to dinner. I’m tired of being locked up, and she needs to feel like a normal person again.”

Instead of arguing with her over the merits of staying in versus going out, he asked, “What time will you be leaving?”

Katniss shrugged, her slim hand waving in the air. “Honestly, I think eight sounds good. What do you think, Bodyguard?  Does that time work for you?  Or will we be inconveniencing your schedule?  I’d hate to get between you and your job.”  Acid dripped from every word she spoke.

Peeta felt the dig, and it hurt but he decided not to take the bait. “Eight works well for me.”

“Well, good!” she said, more forcefully than the response merited. Peeta noticed the strain around her eyes, sensed the barely repressed fury that made her both beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Peeta fidgeted with his jacket sleeve, watching her burn before his eyes and felt himself at a loss for how to quench her fire without going back on his promise to keep her safe. So he turned away instead, now painfully aware of his footfalls on the expensively tiled floors.

“She’s safe, you know…” she said, barely above a whisper. “If it hadn’t been for you, my sister would be dead.  You’re the one who set those men to guard her.”  Her voice thickened and Peeta almost relented, almost fell before her and begged her to let him try to make her happy again.  It took so little from her to make him forget every good intention he’d ever had.

“Doesn’t that count for anything?” she pressed.

“It’s not enough,” Peeta said quietly.  “No more near misses, Katniss. If something happened...to you...I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” he blurted out, unable to lock her out completely.  Understanding his weakness, he did something he hardly ever did.

He ran.

**XXXXX**

Peeta spent 2 hours that night standing ramrod straight at the entrance of the restaurant, trying to make his mind as blank as possible to guard against the worsening pain in his heart. It helped that Katniss ignored him. The smile Prim had given him had been painful enough without Katniss adding her own special form of torture.  And yet, when they returned to the compound after dinner, it was Katniss’s eyes he felt on his tense, overwrought shoulders as he hurried away, relieved to put an end to the day.

 

He'd collapsed that night, ignoring the burning sensation in the corners of his eyes, and fallen into a fitful sleep filled with fire and guns and someone crying out for help, someone he searched frantically for but couldn't find.  In the end, sheer exhaustion pushed him down into unconsciousness and for a few hours, he finally found the blissful oblivion of deep sleep.

 

**XXXXX**

Katniss spent the day of the Gala with her sister, visiting the exclusive boutiques of Rodeo Drive, dipping gleefully into shop after shop while he and Gale carried their bags.  Peeta discretely searched every corner of every establishment, trying to stay out of Katniss’s way, in some moments, managing to almost forget that she was even there, while Gale hovered near the entrances, appearing to take in the perpetual California sunshine but really, conducting his own surveys of people as they passed, holding his own vigil against any dangers that might appear.

Prim was positively glowing with joy as she tried on outfit after outfit, soliciting Peeta’s opinion with childish excitement but Katniss was more likely to float away from them when they spoke, a scowl creasing her forehead. “Peeta, now really, are you sure this doesn’t make me look too pinched around the waist?  I feel like my hips are huge in this.”

Peeta smiled, indulging her with his honest opinion of the yellow, fitted dress with the tiny waist-band and plunging neckline.  “It’s not the waist I’m worried about.  It makes you look kind of,” he indicated the upper portion of his chest to make the point, “Va-va-va-voom, you know?”

“Oh, you mean busty!  Well, I like the effect it has on my cleavage.  Katniss?”

Katniss glanced at her and wrinkled her nose. “You’re my sister. I don’t think I want you to look va-va-va-voom.”

“Well, I think I do!  On some occasions, it could even be just what I need,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Katniss, whose scowl softened but did not completely disappear.

“I don’t want to be anywhere near you on the nights you want to pull that out.” Katniss said, shaking her head at her sister.

“Well neither do I, dear sister.” Prim said lightly and, for once, Peeta couldn’t help but smile at Prim’s pluck, which made Katniss’s scowl return. Prim, meanwhile, pulled out a simple, black A-line dress from the rack of clothing they were considering. “You should try this one, Katniss!  Aren’t you going to buy anything?”

Katniss shook her head. “No, I already have a closet-full of clothes that Cinna designed for me.”

Prim shook her head and pulled her sister towards her. “You can never have too many little, black dresses. Come on, try it on!” she insisted as she yanked Katniss into the small changing room with her.  Peeta moved away again, exhausted from the strain of circling Katniss in the tiny space without intersecting with her.  The shopkeeper had mercifully closed the shop temporarily for Katniss’s use - in fact, all the shops they’d visited had closed their stores to other patrons, which made Peeta’s job easier.

When Katniss stepped out, it was clear she was at the end of her patience but the dress suited her perfectly - the soft folds hugged her every curve, while the neckline gave Prim’s dress serious competition.  Peeta suddenly felt the air around him constrict and found himself struggling to breathe.  There was nothing for it - either it was his heartsickness, or Katniss just looked incredible to him, no matter what outfit she put on.  In fact, there wasn’t anything that Katniss wore that did not make him want her all the time.

Prim studied her sister, smiling in approval. “Now that is nice!  Peeta…”

“Don’t ask him what he thinks...he’s completely immune to my charms.” Katniss interrupted with seeming lightness as she spun in circles.  “I’m just a distraction, aren’t I, Peeta?”

Peeta sensed the challenge in her question. Katniss’s twirling stopped, and she strode to where Peeta stood, stiff with tension and feeling the overwhelming need to give in to her.  Standing on her tippy toes, she whispered in his ear. “Tell me I’m pretty, Peeta.  Say it like you don’t mean it. I dare you.”

Peeta shook his head, her proximity causing him to lose focus again. “I never say things I don’t mean.”

“Bullshit,” she hissed as Prim quietly took another dress and receded into the dressing room.  Even her sister had sensed the sudden charge of tension in the air.  “You are a liar and you are full of shit. I see how you look at me. You think you’re so clever and maybe to the others, you are. But I know that look you get every single time you see me.  So go ahead and tell me I don’t look good to you.”

Peeta’s heart raced at her audacity in speaking to him about such things in a public place, even if there was only the two of them now.  He could literally hear his heart pounding like a drum and felt an edge of lightheadedness.  

“You look good to me, Katniss,” he choked out, his body betraying him as he felt the telltale twitch in his pants, becoming instantly hard as she came closer to him.  He balled his fists to keep from touching her.  Katniss smiled bitterly and put her small hands over his clenched fists.

“You’re gonna wear yourself out, fighting so hard,” she whispered, so close, their noses were practically touching.  “You’re not at war anymore, soldier.”  Katniss stepped back and Peeta felt able to take a breath again.  Turning on her heel, she marched over to the small changing room, yanking the door shut.  As Peeta regained his composure, he heard Katniss say, with a voice full of intensity and defiance, “I think I’ll take this dress.  It seems to have the effect I want.”

**XXXXX**

Like any other glamorous event, the red carpet was a cacophony of madness.  Photographers, fans, interviewers, hanger-ons and sycophants all swarmed around the actors, directors and movie stars who had been invited to part with sizeable amounts of money in the service of the museum.

And of course, Katniss was the biggest draw, cameras and crowds going wild as she took to the red carpet, showing off Cinna’s masterpiece.  Peeta already heard the accolades dripping from the saccharine commenters - awarding her the crown of Best Dressed Celebrity. They were looking at her dress and the designer but what they could not possibly see was that Katniss was radiant because of who she was as a person. They didn’t know her as he did.

In the middle of the madness of clamoring voices and flashing lights, Peeta’s eyes saw through the bright rags that had been arranged to look like sunlight. He looked past the makeup and decorations and saw her.  It was ironic- she was dressed to resemble the sun but she didn’t need that artifice to glow and become luminous.  He felt a wave of pure love radiate through him, free of the usual heartbreak that always accompanied his every thought of her.

Other celebrities looked on her with awe or jealousy as Katniss took extra time to pose and chat with the news outlets. With her sister at her side, the conversation quickly turned to the attack of a few nights ago but Katniss simply smiled and repeated that the suspect was in custody, rumors of an assassin were unconfirmed and she and her sister were determined to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Plutarch Heavensbee milled about the crowd, greeting Katniss with false warmth. Peeta wanted to snarl at him but hovered behind Katniss instead as she played her part with Prim in a chiffon dress that made her look dewy and young.  Gale had been assigned to shadow Prim closely, something he did with remarkable discretion and Peeta couldn’t help but be impressed at the progress he’d made in the short time they’d worked together.

After what seemed like hours of chatting and socializing, the guests were gently herded to the dining area. As Katniss was escorted behind stage, Peeta’s phone vibrated and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of irritation at the interruption.  Excusing himself he moved to a discreet place behind the stage where he could hear without straining.

“Peeta!” came Darius’ voice booming across the telephone line.  “At some fancy party, I hear!”

Peeta became excited, knowing there was only one reason why he would be calling him.  “Tell me you’ve got something for me.”

“Today’s your lucky day!” Darius exclaimed.  “As a result of our careful and extensive research, I happen to have a name for you.  I also just forwarded by text a physical description of the man named Marvel Wilson.  He has several aliases…”

Peeta stopped listening as his mind whirled, trying to understand.  “Marvel?  Ex-military, works as a freelance bodyguard?”

“Whoa, wait, you know this guy?” Darius asked.

“Shit, Darius, that asshole was in my company in Afghanistan. What the hell is he…?” But Peeta’s mind flew to their conversation the day of the party when Peeta asked what he did for a living.

_Same as you, though not with such high profile clients. Business men. Some side action on a short term basis._

“Has he ever been in jail?” Peeta asked abruptly, his anger mounting.

“He’s been investigated but nothing’s ever stuck. He’s associated with folks like Ira Khavisch, a known money launder and Moon Siu, Chinese crime lord.  All shady characters.”

“And his hits are his side-action,” Peeta finished. “I’ve got to get his physical description out to my people.

“Be careful, Peeta.  He’s a slippery one. He looks like the kind who wants to get “made” and a hit on your client would establish his street cred. He’s notorious for not leaving anything behind, which is why he hasn’t been busted yet but he’s been on the watch list for some time.”

“Why wouldn’t the police have been interested in someone like him?” Peeta asked angrily.

“Come on, a traffic cop isn’t gonna pull all this. I got his name from the police report but the watch list is Federal. That’s not something they’re going to have access to unless they dig and your guys down there didn’t think he was important enough to look into. He must have had a great story lined up when they stopped him.”

“Yeah, well, you gotta love the bureaucracy,” Peeta groused, thanking Darius before hanging up. He was almost sick with the idea of how close Marvel had gotten to Katniss, in a place he’d thought she’d be the safest. Marvel might not have recognized her or maybe, he hadn’t been hired yet.  Peeta had gone through everything to try to protect Katniss and yet it appeared he himself was proving to be her Achilles’ heel.

He snapped out of his self-pity when he observed that the guests were being seated. While Heavensbee took to the stage to welcome the patrons who’d paid handsomely for the evening’s festivities, Peeta sent the photo with Marvel’s full name, to his team. With a sinking feeling Peeta realized there was nothing more he could do without disrupting the entire evening. He’d compulsively scanned the crowds, catching Gale’s eye across the room, where he acknowledged Peeta with a nod.  A second later, his text came through.

“We’ll keep our eye out for him.”

Peeta nodded in return as he glanced up at the security cameras. All were in position and his men were manning their posts. All he could do was wait, and it was eating him up to be so helpless.

Finally, Katniss emerged from backstage to where he stood at the edge of the stage.  For a moment, he visualized himself taking her into his arms and kissing her so hard Effie would have to redo her face.  He even toyed with stopping her, to keep her from performing but he knew she would reject the suggestion out of hand and there was no sense wrecking her equanimity.  

When he looked at her face, the Katniss he knew was gone, her alter ego replacing her instead - cool, composed, smiling, and moving her body in perfect time.  However, when he reached out his hand to help her with the small elevation that would take her onto the stage, the smooth, unperturbed mask faltered and gave way. Her eyes, always either angry or frigid, were now unguarded, naked like the night Prim was hurt when she’d come to him seeking comfort, inviting him into her grief.  Nothing else in her face gave her away - her eyes were the chink in her armor and she’d removed that armor once more for him.

Without warning, as she took the step upwards, but instead of moving onto the stage, she moved towards him, pressing her lips to his. He felt his eyes go wide in shock and was hardly afforded the opportunity to respond to her before she pulled back. Her face was still her own, soft and pliant and begging for him to connect with her, and not the face that could launch a thousand magazine covers.  

He leaned in to kiss her back, cursing his weakness for the last time, but she’d already turned to take the stage, the roar of the crowd nothing compared to the roaring of his blood racing in his ears.  She said a few words that he didn’t completely comprehend, thanking the patrons, inviting them to donate, things he could care less about. Instead, he indulged himself and watched her, taking his fill of her, if only from afar, in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to do since the night he left her in his bedroom.

Still in a daze, he heard the piano keys tap out the first chords of her song.  Katniss stood bathed in the shimmering spotlight, like a goddess before her vintage microphone, the beads of fire in her hair glinting lightly in time with her dress.  When the words fell, he stared at her lips moving as a sound that would make birds stop and listen filled the room:

_Take my life_

_Take me for what I am_

_Cause I’ll never change_

_All my colors for you_

_Take my love_

_I’ll never ask for too much_

_Just all that you are_

_And everything that you do_

 

He’d heard her rehearse so many times but the sound of her voice had always been buoyed upwards with the cadences of percussion, the relentless pounding of drums and beats that testified to Katniss’s powerful, wild heart. Hers was a strength that could carry the world if she had been called to do so - of that he was convinced.  But now, her voice was as naked as her face, and it was longing, need, and wanting that carried it now.

_Don’t make me close one more door_

_I don’t want to hurt anymore_

_Stay in my arms if you dare_

_Or must I imagine you there_

_Don’t walk away from me_

_I have nothing, nothing, nothing, if I don’t have you_

 

He tried scanning the room, tried to focus on his job, the single objective of her safety driving him but her words kept coaxing him back to her.  When she glanced at him meaningfully before returning her attention to the crowd, Peeta felt that illusion again, that she might be singing for him.  She hadn’t donned her mask for the audience, he realized.  Those brief seconds where her eyes had given her away before she took to the stage had been for him. It was his Katniss singing now, and he finally saw her for what she was, a woman asking him to take a risk and love her, despite the dangers that flourished like wild flowers around her.

_I don’t really need to look_

_very much further_

_I don’t want to have to go_

_where you don’t follow_

_I’m holding back again_

_this passion inside_

_I can’t run from myself_

_There’s no where to hide_

_Your love I’ll remember forever._

 

The secrecy, the nervousness, the closed auditioning, even the dress.  And now her song, the song that would represent the single most successful Gala event in the history of the museum, was also her petition to him.

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve her. But then, he truly believed no one deserved Katniss.  And before someone else came along and underestimated her, he would be there for her.  It would be him. He would try to give her everything he was. He wanted to run to her at that moment and accept her challenge, beg her forgiveness and allow him the privilege of loving her in return. He had nothing, but all that he had he would put at her feet because at least he understood her worth, would protect it and never take it for granted.  

When she looked to him again, he nodded and smiled from his heart.  She continued singing but he knew she understood. He watched his Girl on Fire light up the stage in response to him.

He unknowingly stepped onto the stage, still hidden by the curtain from the crowds.  He was like a seaman drawn to a siren’s song when the last of her brilliant notes climbed into the air.  A moment of silence held the audience in its thrall before they erupted, giving her a standing ovation and he knew where he would be, standing in the wings, waiting, always waiting to do whatever it was she decided he needed to do to keep her happy.

She bowed, bathed in the adulation of the crowd when a voice exploded through his earpiece.

“He’s here!” came Gale’s bark, jarring his hearing.

A ripple in the crowd drew his attention and suddenly, Peeta caught sight of Gale at the back of the large hall, knocking over a table and sprinting across the wildly cheering mass of well-heeled patrons, all still in the grip of Katniss’s song. Peeta didn’t wait to catch sight of Gale’s target as his legs propelled him across the space that separated him from where Katniss stood, frozen to the spot where she’d just straightened from taking a bow.  Peeta lunged across the remaining distance just as the report of a suppressed shot, perhaps by a silencer, rebounded throughout the concert hall, loud but still muffled by the wildly cheering crowd.  Shouts and screams followed the explosion of sound as Peeta’s weight landed on Katniss, toppling them both to the ground.

For one blissful moment, Peeta felt Katniss pinned beneath him, the feeling so unbelievably good that he thought maybe he’d just stay that way for a while, pretending the crowd had dissipated into the mist.  But it passed in a split second when he saw the blood seeping over the shoulder of her dress.

“Katniss…” he muttered, finding it oddly difficult to speak.  She scrambled to cradle his head on her thighs.

“Peeta! Peeta!” she said breathlessly, struggling to gasp and speak at the same time.  “No, No, No! Peeta! Peeta stay with me! Stay with me!” she said like a mantra over and over.

Peeta wanted to tell her that she was bleeding, that somebody might have shot her but his head began to swim, and he started to lose his connection to his surroundings.  He was very cold, like there was ice flowing through his veins.  He looked up into her panicked face as she screamed for help. He tried to touch her cheek, to calm her down, to tell her she would be okay, but his arm was a lead block pinned at his side.

“Someone call an ambulance, he’s been shot!” she screamed, swatting a pair of hands away from him. “Don’t touch him!  Get away from him!” she barked, tears now threading a path through her makeup.  “Peeta, please, stay awake!  Don’t you go to sleep on me!” she ordered him, as if the force of her will could keep him from losing consciousness. Her voice broke as she ran her hand over his forehead and down his cheek, whispering,  “Please stay with me.”

He had the sudden thought that he might actually be the one who’d been shot, that the blood on her dress was his. For an instant, it was not her face he saw, but Finnick’s, unflappably happy as he had always been. There was such pride and kindness in his expression that Peeta felt the guilt he’d carried like a festering wound suddenly unravel and melt away. Katniss was alive. He could finally let Finnick go in peace, knowing that he had only ever done his best, that this time, his best had been enough.

Meanwhile, Katniss’s pleas took longer to reach him across a vast ocean of fog and confusion but he still managed to smile at her entreaties, and struggled to answer her, as best he could before everything faded to purple mist.

“ _Always_.”

 

 

**XXXXX**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful for the hard work that my betas, bubblegum1425 and solasvioletta, put into this chapter. I’ve been building up to this scene for the whole fic and I took extra long to write it because I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to convey what I wanted properly. It could descend into camp very easily so I’m hoping I pulled it off.
> 
> There are two sections left (it might be two or the epilogue may become a part of the last chapter - it depends on the characters, lol. They do what they want.). But I am so grateful to you for reading from the beginning, for messaging me and letting me know what works and what doesn’t. It is what keeps me going when I hit a wall or the writing stalls. Just thank you so much :).


	13. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the epilogue.

**Part 12**

 

**_I know that when you look at me_ **

**_There's so much that you just don't see_ **

**_But if you would only take the time_ **

**_I know in my heart you'd find_ **

**_A girl who's scared sometimes_ **

**_Who isn't always strong_ **

**_Can't you see the hurt in me?_ **

**_I feel so all alone_ **

 

**_I wanna run to you (oooh)_ **

**_I wanna run to you (oooh)_ **

**_Won't you hold me in your arms_ **

**_And keep me safe from harm_ **

**_I wanna run to you (oooh)_ **

**_But if I come to you (oooh)_ **

**_Tell me, will you stay or will you run away_ **

 

**- _from_ Run to You _by Whitney Houston_**

 

**Katniss**

 

His eyes closed despite Katniss willing them to do otherwise.

 

Everything afterwards was a blur - the mayhem of people as they gawked at Peeta, Haymitch tugging at her arm so that she’d give the paramedics room to work.  Peeta’s face, so pale, he already looked like a ghost.  And the blood. Everywhere blood…Peeta’s blood...pooling on the shiny stage, splotching Cinna’s beautiful dress, on her hands...Peeta’s blood on her hands...

 

Gale had pinned down the shooter, Marvel Wilson, who would have slipped out after his deed as quietly as a snake were it not for the fact that he had been carrying a large roll of table napkins, something the other waiters did not have.  Gale later said it was as if the man had buried his arm in a cast made of linen, so when he raised the wad, Gale had had only his instincts to go on.  Shoving the table aside had been just the thing that startled Marvel before he fired off the round and made a break for it, perhaps hoping to profit from the chaos.  But Gale, large as he was, was also unnervingly fast and had reached the man just as Peeta lay across Katniss’s lap. Those few moments of distraction had been enough to allow Peeta to get into place and spare Katniss the bullet.

 

Peeta still wore a shadow of a smile on his face. He’d finally relented and given in to her, to himself. And then this happened.  She would never understand how that was fair but Katniss was familiar with the way life gave just enough to keep a person hopeful before yanking it all away again. She’d taken a risk.  She let him in and allowed herself to love him, just in time to mourn him.

 

Katniss would have collapsed if Prim had not been propping her up.  She tried to recover her composure, watching the flurry of the buzzing paparazzi held at bay by the police tape like a swarm of wasps, waiting to overwhelm her with their venom.  Leaning her head onto Prim’s shoulder, tremors finally overtook her.

 

“I have to get out of here. I have to get to him,” she said, her teeth chattering.

 

“You’re shaking!”  Prim said in a panic, squeezing her sister close to her.

 

“Katniss, dear, you must come home and change. You’re going into shock and you’re covered...in...Peeta’s blood…” Effie could barely compete the sentence before turning her face away, a hiccuping complaint rising up in her chest.  Katniss shook her head against her sister’s shoulder, clinging harder to Prim.

 

“She needs to get out of here,” Haymitch groused, dialing Thresh on his cell phone and arranging to have the car brought around. “The police know where to find us.”

 

Gale, who had only just returned from giving his statement, took both Prim and Katniss by the elbow and lead them away from the press, Effie and Haymitch following close behind.  Mr. Heavensbee intercepted them as they neared a side exit reserved for patrons, his face pale and stricken.

 

“Ms. Everdeen. I wanted to extend my condolences…”

 

“No!” Gale snapped, handing Katniss over to Haymitch, turning to tower over the insipid manager of the museum, “You don’t get to give condolences. You don’t get to be sorry,” Gale closed the space between him and Heavensbee.  “You might have been a little more cooperative when Mr. Mellark asked permission for a police presence within the dining hall.”

 

“I was very cooperative. I simply felt the dining hall was already secure…” Heavensbee babbled, his loose jowls shaking with each word he uttered.

 

“Well, it’ll be interesting to see what Ms. Everdeen’s lawyers have to say about it.” he said, getting within an inch of the the older man’s face, a look of satisfaction spreading over his features as Mr. Heavensbee visibly paled and shrank before him.  “So, with all due respect, sir, you can take your condolences and go fuck yourself,” Gale hissed, sending the pasty man back several paces in fear. Katniss’s head shot up at the expletive but Gale only scowled and shook his head at her as they left Mr. Heavensbee looking as if he’d been told he should go swim with hungry sharks.

 

“What was that all about?” Katniss asked as they were seated in the limousine.

 

“Karma,” Gale muttered in reply as the car pulled away.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss remembered nothing about the ride home, getting changed, being fussed over by Effie, Johanna, Madge, Prim, her mother...she only had one thing fixed in her mind.

 

_I have to get to him._

 

They tried to talk her into eating or resting but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t concentrate on anything - didn’t care about her appearance, the swarm of journalists that were flooding the gate of her home, maybe even hanging from the trees of the compound like savage monkeys.  She’d let Haymitch and Effie take care of it all because she only had one objective. She had to go to him.  So when she stood on the steps of her own house, like an urchin, still shivering and waiting for Thresh to bring the car, no one dared to stop her. She wasn’t alone either - Prim’s arm was linked through hers, and Katniss marveled at the turn in roles. She had spent her life caring for the girl and now it was she who was in desperate need of being cared for.

 

As Thresh pulled up, Gale burst through the front door.  “Hey, you’re not leaving without me!” he said as he bound down the stairs to open the car door for them. “Peeta’s in surgery so we’re going to have to wait anyway.”  Katniss threw her arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly to her.

 

“Thank you!” she whispered into his rock-hard chest.

 

“Come on, Catnip,” he said, his voice thick with feeling. “He saved your life.  I’m gonna be owing him for that shit for the rest of my life.”

 

“You did your part, too,” she said as she pulled back, craning her neck to really look at him. “You distracted that bastard long enough so that Peeta could get to me.  And I’m so grateful to you.”

 

Gale shrugged.  “Yeah, well you should be. I don’t know how you’d get along without me,” he gave her a wry smile but his eyes spoke of a special kind of fear, one she knew only too well, one reserved now for Peeta. “You should be there when he wakes up.”

 

Katniss nodded, releasing him to take to the interior of the limousine with Prim while Gale sat with Thresh.  As they pulled out, Katniss stared down the paps outside her gates, as if daring them to trifle with her.  They followed her, pulling alongside her darkened limousine, attempting to take that photograph that would land them millions. She could see the headlines - _Katniss Everdeen races to be with wounded bodyguard and love interest, Peeta Mellark_.  And she, who was averse to putting her personal life at the hands of the press under any circumstances, could care less. Let them swarm down on her and try to touch her, talk to her.  Let them try to get a rise out of her. Her rage was such that she felt she could take on an entire army.

 

Hurtling through the city, Katniss rested her forehead against the window, biting her nails down to the nailbed.  The silence in the limousine bristled with anger and anxiety and, after a brief time, Prim spoke.

 

“You love him, don’t you?” she said, taking her sister’s hand and smoothing down the angry red nubs that had become her fingers.

 

Katniss opened her mouth to speak but her only response was smothered in a sob. Instead, she nodded her head, her face faltering like so much sandstone under the weight of her worry.  Prim pulled her in and held her as Katniss finally relented, her anger giving way to terror for Peeta’s well-being from the moment she saw him race towards her across the stage.

 

“I happen to know from experience that being loved by you is the best thing that can happen to a person,” Prim said quietly as sobs rocked Katniss’ body. “Shhh, he’ll be okay, I know he will.”

 

“He...better...be,” Katniss gasped between those hiccuping sobs she hated so much, “Or...else...I...so help me, Prim...”

 

“What are you going to do?  Beat him?” Katniss heard her sister laugh and could not help the chuckle that escaped her also.  “Geeze, K, he’s already been shot!”

 

Katniss let the humor move through her before it gave way to the fear that bit down all the way to her bones, the fear that the surgery wouldn’t be enough, that she’d have to contend with more than just worry.  She shivered and raised her eyes to her sister, all her defenses falling away.

 

“I need him, Prim.  I..he can’t…he just can’t...”  
  


“He won’t, Katniss. He’s a survivor, just like you.  When he comes out of it, you can tell him that you love him yourself.  Because I know that idiot loves you.”

 

Katniss nodded, accepting this because she was also convinced that Peeta loved her too.

 

**XXXXX**

 

When they arrived at the hospital, there was no fuss from the hospital personnel.  Friends and family could wait patiently in the softly lit room of pastel-cushioned chairs near the most modern surgical unit in all of Panem.  It was pure luck that the ambulance had brought Peeta here but if not, Katniss would have bribed the president of the hospital board himself to get him here.   

 

Gale scoped out the entrances and rooms around the waiting area as Katniss took in the handful of occupants speaking in hushed voices in the corner. Katniss did not focus on them until a glance made her heart feel as if it would explode with relief.  Annie rose, red-eyed and shaking from amidst of the group at the sight of Katniss.

 

“Katniss!” she said, greeting her with a hug and clinging to her. It seemed momentarily strange to Katniss, as if Peeta should have only had her to care and worry about him. Of course Annie would come. She was one of the most important people in his life.  

 

“I’m so sorry!” Katniss blurted out.  “He’s here because he saved me!” she said, trying not to sob again as the guilt weighed down even more heavily upon her.

 

“That’s his job, silly!” Annie said breathlessly, tugging Katniss back to her and clinging tightly again. “I’m sure when he realizes you’re safe, it will be the most proud moment of his life,” Annie pulled back again, capturing Katniss’ face in her hands.  “I promise you!”

 

Katniss gave her a watery smile, wiping her nose unceremoniously on the back of her sleeve.  “Tristan?”

 

Annie shook her head. “He doesn’t know. He’s with Finnick’s mother and they aren’t playing the news for him, because it’s all anyone is talking about. It...it would be too much for a little boy.”  Annie sniffled, finally noticing Prim at her side.  “Is this your sister?” she asked.

 

Katniss nodded, stepping aside to introduce Prim.  “This is Peeta’s best friend’s wife, Annie.”

 

Annie hugged her as if she’d known her for a hundred years. “So nice to meet you!  You are just the prettiest flower!” she exclaimed with subdued, but sincere happiness.

 

Prim blushed at her words, only momentarily taken by surprise by Annie’s effusiveness, but a dry voice from behind Annie interrupted them.

 

“Annie, please introduce us.” Katniss turned to see a tall woman of about sixty approach them. She recognized the woman, trying to place her when she realized with a shock that she was face to face with Peeta’s mother.

 

“K-Katniss,” said Annie tremulously.  “This is Mrs. Mellark, Peeta’s mother.”  Katniss understood Annie’s nervousness. The woman was thin and imposing, with a regal-like bearing.  Katniss had not forgotten Peeta or Annie’s description of his mother.  She had not forgotten the impression that an oppressive mother had made on her. Mrs. Mellark appeared to possess a will of iron and expected the world to bend to it, including Katniss.  But Katniss could only smile internally, because if Mrs. Mellark was iron, she was forged from steel.

 

“Katniss Everdeen,” she raised her hand in introduction, shaking the woman’s firmly. Mrs. Mellark stared down at her, a full head taller and it was clear to Katniss that Peeta’s mother was accustomed to using her cold, blue eyes and intimidating height on most people to get her way. But Katniss was not most people.  She felt Annie shrink back to speak with Prim as Katniss held her ground before the older woman.

 

“So, he was in your employ?” Mrs. Mellark asked.

 

“He still is, if that’s what he wants,” Katniss responded, equally cool.  “I will forever be in his debt for what he’s done for me.  I’m only sorry to be responsible for you and your family’s suffering.”

 

“Indeed,” she said. “To lose his life for a pop princess. It is really quite the irony.” Mrs. Mellark’s face became pinched, as if the room had suddenly become rank with sewage. She appeared to be preparing quite the scathing put down when a large man stepped forward, in appearance so much like Peeta, Katniss felt his absence like a blow to her chest.

 

“Sybil, Philip wants to know where the cafeteria is. I was wondering if you could show him the way?”

 

Mrs. Mellark’s snorted, the nostrils of her thin nose flaring like those of a thoroughbred. Without a word, she rounded on two young men standing behind her, and, without a word, lead them like vassals down the hospital hallway.

 

“You have to excuse my wife. Her response to almost every tragedy is to become angry. She is extremely worried about Peeta, as am I.  I’m Dale, Peeta’s father. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Katniss nodded, taking the larger man’s hand, unable to tear her eyes away from a face that looked like an older version of Peeta’s. It hurt her heart, and she had to chew on the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into tears.  Maybe it was the resemblance or maybe her instinct responded to the man’s kindness - for Katniss had a terminal weakness for kind people -  but she felt she could trust this man and bring him into her confidence.  “How is Peeta?”

 

He shook his head, his kind face creased with worry lines. “It’s hard to tell. When he was admitted, his surgeon informed us he would need emergency surgery,” he gave Katniss a sheepish look. “I guess you know that already.”

 

“It’s fine,” she said, urging him gently on.

 

“Well, the bullet, according to x-rays, shattered his scapula or shoulder blade.  It just barely missed his heart by an inch and a half.  Miraculously, outside of the bone fragments that they’ll have to try to piece together, there was no damage to the axillary artery…”

 

“But there was so much blood!” Katniss burst out, then covered her mouth when she saw the look of pain cross his father’s features.  “I’m so sorry!”

 

“It’s okay. I...I...forget you were there,” Mr. Mellark swallowed hard.  “He was unconscious when they brought him in.”

 

Katniss nodded, unable to stem a few rogue tears that now rolled down her face. She swiped them angrily away. “He was so brave.  You’d have been so proud of him. I know...I know I’m not worth much…” she choked out, biting her cheek again until she tasted the thick metallic flavor of blood.

 

“Don’t say that,” he said, putting a large hand on her shoulder. Even his hand had the same dusting of gold-colored hair as his son's. “I’ve seen the newscasts. Are you two a couple…?”

 

Katniss blushed furiously, finding it difficult to hold his gaze. “Mr. Mellark...I...care...very much...for P-Peeta.”  Her hands began to shake, and she felt his hands grasp and cover hers. “If...something happens to him…” she whispered, the tears flowing freely over her cheeks, “I’ll never leave that stage.  I’ll never stop trying to think of how things could have gone differently, if I had only been paying attention…”  She shook her head to clear her mind of the heaviness of her crying but she felt his arms go around her, holding her against his broad chest, so wide and safe like Peeta’s. But not Peeta. No one would ever make her feel like Peeta did and this realization gutted her from the inside. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Shhh...It’s not your fault. We all know that.”  He pulled back, his own eyes wet with tears that he was fighting hard to keep from falling. “He knew what he was getting into when he took up this line of work. I’m sure, if he knows that you're safe, it will be the most important thing in the world. Any other outcome would be intolerable for him.”

 

Katniss thought of the night Prim was hurt, how harried and upset Peeta had become.  She remembered how angry she’d been with him but she’d been blind to his guilt and horror.  She knew his father was right. She was ready to break into a million pieces but she had not been responsible for him as he’d been for her. If it were her in that hospital bed, or worse…

 

“Thank you,” she said, wiping her cheeks with finality, straightening with newfound strength.  “You’re right. He is courageous but he’s also stubborn and hard-headed, and he probably won’t ever let me live this down,” she smiled, finding an answering one on his lips.  “Dale, if you don't mind, I’d like to introduce you to some of my people…”

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta was moved to the Post-Anesthesia Care Unit after two hours in surgery. His surgeon came to speak to the family and Katniss made sure to listen to every word he said. Peeta would need more surgery, as well as physical therapy to restore the use of his left arm but he was out of danger, which caused the small group of people to cheer happily.  Katniss grasped her sister, hugging her tightly. They’d be able to see him but he would be unconscious for a while longer.

 

It was agreed that his immediate family should see him first, followed by Annie and finally, Katniss.  Prim drooped her head against her shoulder as the allotted five minutes for each pair of visitors passed.  

 

“Gale, why don’t you take Prim home.  I’ll be fine here,” she said, watching her sister’s eyes flutter shut.

 

“I don’t know, Catnip…” he said warily.

“Oh, no one’s trying to take me out anymore,” Katniss said with gallows humor. “Plus, I’d kill for a philly steak sub with extra onions from that one deli.  I’ll call ahead - I think I’m gonna be here for a while.  Maybe some comfortable clothes?”

 

“You’re not going to sleep here, Katniss!” Gale groused.

 

“I’m a celebrity, Gale,” she smiled wearily. “I should be able to rustle up a gurney or something.  But Prim doesn’t need to be here suffering with me.”  Katniss crossed her arms, speaking in a hushed voice so as not to disturb the handful of people dozing in the chairs. “Once you bring me some clothes, you and Thresh can go home. I’ll call you to pick me up in the morning.”

 

“Catnip…” Gale said ominously.

 

“You’re not changing my mind.  Now please, take Prim home.”

 

With a weary sigh, Gale lead a half-sleeping Prim out of the waiting room, which was a relief for Katniss because she was looking forward to a moment of peace as the group of people dwindled.  Once Mr. and Mrs. Mellark and Peeta’s brothers had gone in to see him, they went home, followed by Annie and her relatives, with promises to return in the morning.  Katniss wished them all good night, including Peeta’s taciturn mother and various cousins of Annie’s that, with the exhaustion of the day, Katniss could not, for the life of her, keep straight.

 

Finally, the nurse came for Katniss, who was led down to the PACU. A _Quiet_ sign on the sliding doors disappeared every time they opened.  The eery sounds of beeps and pumps filled the air as Katniss scanned the empty beds, her eyes finally settling on him.  Still pale, she could see the weakness of the surgery and anesthesia etched onto his face. He slept but it was unnatural. The one time she’d slept beside him, his slumber had been more animated, more dynamic than the figure she now contemplated.

 

And yet, her relief at his survival, that the bullet had not passed an inch and a half lower, made him the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.  She perched on a stool, drifting slowly side to side on the rotating seat as she took in the tubes, the IV, the silent, puff of the machine sending fluids into his body.  She touched his hand, which was cold and unmoving and held on, suddenly impatient for him to wake up.

 

“I’m here, Peeta,” she whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of the way. “You saved me.  Did you know that? I know that matters to you.” she paused, running her fingers over the face she’d longed so much to touch. “When you wake up, I want my face to be the first face you see.  In fact, I always want to be the first face you see every morning and the last one you see each night. You think we can make that happen?”

 

He remained inert, the machines keeping them company and she hated the sounds that surrounded him - the dead, clinical silence that answered her; the methodical tapping and beeping of metal against metal.  So she began to hum, first low in her throat, then a little louder. She sang, to bring something human into the air and because, as she’d once told him, singing was her comfort and she needed it at that moment.

 

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when you awake, the sun will rise._

 

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you._

 

Katniss continued to sing softly, a sense of drowsiness overcoming her as the words her father taught her when she was young spilled out of her. She was just like him - he had not been particularly talkative but when he sang, he said everything he needed to say. For a period, she’d stopped singing after he died but it didn’t last long. She needed the outlet, the company of her father, often throughout her life and this was the only way she knew of getting as close as she could to him.

 

And so, in the middle of the sterility, there was Peeta, now as much a part of her as the song she sang.  Katniss closed her eyes and let her soft voice rise in the empty room, filling every corner of the lifeless space with her gentle melody. When the nurse came to tell her that her time was up, she paused at the sliding doors, joined by others who did not dare to interrupt as Katniss’ voice rang like a bell in a lonely church, full of longing and an invitation for her love to follow out of the depths of the dark world and back to her again.

 

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away_

_A cloak of leaves, A moonbeam ray,_

_Forget your woes and let your troubles lay_

_And when again it's morning, they'll wash away._

 

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you._

 

“Katniss?” came a whispery sound, so low, she almost thought she’d dreamed it.  When she opened her eyes, she found Peeta looking drowsily up at her.

 

“Peeta!” she gasped, dashing to take up his hand.

 

“Are you real?” he rasped, his voice barely the fluttering of dragonfly wings.

 

“Yes, I’m real,” she answered, trying to bite back her tears of happiness, unwilling to let him see her mourning him. He was awake, and that was the most wonderful thing in the world to her right now.  “I’m real and so are you.”

 

He gave a small smile as the nurse arrived, speaking low so as not to startle them.

 

“He’s awake?” the older woman said, checking his vitals.

 

“Yes!” Katniss said as she held his hand, hungrily taking in his face as his eyes closed again.

 

The nurse, with a nametag that read Bonnie, gave Katniss a sweet smile as she wrote notes on her chart.  “We’re going to move him into his own room so he can rest. That’s what needs right now.”

 

“Can I...Can I stay with him?” Katniss asked.

 

Bonnie, who was tall and thin, about thirty and a thorough-looking sort of woman who appeared to have the routines of her profession down to a science, considered Katniss for a moment before she spoke again.  “There is a small sofa  in his room - you’re the right size for it. You can sleep there but only if you let him rest!” she glanced at Peeta, who’s eyes had opened and fluttered closed again. “Though I think there’s not much of a chance you’re going to get anything out of him tonight.”

 

Katniss stood, her hands shaking with excitement. “Thank you!  I promise I’ll let him sleep.”

 

The nurse glanced between Peeta’s now sleeping face and Katniss’, shaking her head at them both. “I think you won’t have much say on the matter,” she indicated towards his close eyes and the even rising and falling of his chest. “He’s decided that for everyone.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

Katniss didn’t remember when she’d fallen asleep.  One moment, she was under the hospital-issued blanket, staring at his resting profile, the next moment, sunlight peeked through the thick curtains of the hospital room, the swishing of a nurse checking Peeta for the upteeth time rousing her from her rest. She washed up and hunted for coffee before curling into a chair at his bedside to keep her vigil.  It amazed her, the number of times he’d been checked and fussed over, and yet he slept through it all.  

 

Even with the coffee, though, she dozed off again, waking up compulsively to check on him.  Straightening in her chair, she realized his eyes were open and drowsily taking in the room.

 

“Peeta?” Katniss asked.

 

He turned his head slowly towards her and smiled weakly.  “Katniss.  You’re here.”  
  


Katniss nodded, trying very hard not to burst into slobbering, dramatic tears. “So are you.”

 

“Yeah, well, barely,” he said before swallowing awkwardly.  She noticed a cup with ice chips sitting on the tray next to him.

 

“Are you thirsty?”

 

“Yeah,” he croaked.  

 

Katniss fed him a small chip, wiping the drops off his chin. His lips were dry, almost brittle but after several passes from the ice, they regained some of their plumpness. “Better?”

 

“Thank you,” he nodded weakly, looking longingly at the cup again as she continued to feed him until he shook his head. “I thought...I dreamed you.”

 

“No, no dream. Just me in all my grumpy glory,” she joked, taking his hand, which was a bit warmer and rubbing it.

 

“No...not grumpy…” he said placidly, his blue eyes following her. Even in his weakened condition, she could see his hunger for her, and it thrilled her beyond everything.  “So...beautiful.”

 

“Peeta…” Katniss began, brushing his hair back.

 

“I’m sorry…” Peeta rasped, “I wasted time...I just thought you’d be safer if I…”

 

Katniss shook her head, trying to silence him.  “Don’t wear yourself out...please.”

 

“You sang to me...didn’t you?” he said suddenly, squeezing her hand with more strength than she thought he had.

 

“You remember that?” she asked, sure that the receding fog of anesthesia would have clouded that memory from him.

 

“I told you…” he said with a small chuckle, “I remember everything.”

 

Katniss thought of her father’s song and it did not pain her in the least that Peeta should have the memory of that song also. “It’s my father’s. He used to sing it to me when I had nightmares.  To get me to fall back to sleep again.”

 

Peeta smiled weakly again.  “You told...you said...you loved me. Real or not real?”

 

Katniss voice caught in her throat, a fear as old as she was pounding through her veins, as old as her father’s death and her mother’s depression. To love, to want and potentially, to lose, as she’d almost lost Peeta. But what choice did she have?  She could no longer turn aside her love than she could turn aside the rising tide.

 

“Real,” she whispered.

 

Peeta’s face took on a look of utter elation, all the tension disappearing. She thought he might have fallen asleep but he finally spoke again.  “And...I love you...I want your face to be the first...and last one...I see each day...”

 

Katniss was in tears now, laughing at herself and him and at the way life had of taking them down some twisted paths until they could barely see ahead to what was in front of them. At each bend, there had been danger and violence but also love and hope.  And the reward for enduring so much was there for the taking, if they were willing to take the chance.

 

“It’s settled. I’m going to keep you somewhere safe, where no one will ever hurt you again,’ she said as she placed a kiss on his dry and tired lips.  

 

“So, I still have...a job?” he asked, eliciting a gasp, then a chuckle from her.

 

“You have more than a job, if that’s what you want.  But you might have to see about that shoulder first."

 

He smiled and it was clear to her that he was dozing off again.  She held his hand for a good while as she watched him, the only movement the slow rising and falling of his chest.  When she thought he was asleep, she made to return to the sofa but his hand, so strong, it was as if it belonged to someone else entirely, gripped hers.

 

“Don’t...leave. Stay...with me…”

 

Katniss smiled, and from the most sincere place in her heart, she told him, “Always.”

 

 


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 

**Two Years Later**

 

**_I will never leave your side_ **

**_I will never hurt your pride_ **

**_When all the chips are down, baby_ **

**_Then I will always be around_ **

**_Just to be right where you are_ **

**_My love, you know I love you, boy_ **

 

**_I will never leave you out_ **

**_I will always let you in, boy (mmm, oh baby)_ **

**_To places no-one's ever been,_ **

**_Deep inside, can't you see?_ **

**_That I believe in you and me_ **

 

**-from _I Believe in You and Me_ by Whitney Houston**

 

**Katniss**

 

Katniss stirred, reaching her arm instinctively to the other side of the bed. To her disappointment, she found it empty, the sheets long cooled from the absence of Peeta’s body.  She sat up to the warm, tropical breeze drifting in from the open french doors. Even though she was alone, she dressed out of a vague sense of modesty, pulling on the thin, gauzy nightgown. Its slender straps held material that looked like it would dissolve at the merest handling. But she knew from recent experience that it was sturdier cloth than it first appeared.

 

She took a moment to wash up in the adjoining bathroom before she padded over to the tea set resting on a round glass table near the open veranda doors. It was held up by an intricately woven bamboo, a leafy plant set in the middle of the braided legs so that, as Katniss poured the hot tea, she could see the top of the exotic plant through the transparent barrier of glass.

 

After a few cautious sips, she was overcome by impatience.  The large, open bedroom was empty save for her, so she peeked out onto the veranda, still finding no one.  Putting on her slippers, she stepped gingerly onto the stones of the path that connected the bungalow to the powdery white sand at the foot of the covered wooden deck.  That’s when she saw him and the flutter that she’d felt since the first moment she’d met him spread like warm lava across her belly.

 

He was shirtless, wearing only the white linen night pants that were a compliment to her nightgown.  He was also barefoot, one strong foot buried in the sand, the other resting on the rung of a sturdy Kon-tiki stool that he sat on as he worked before a large easel. The sinews of his shoulder and back muscles bunched and flexed as he worked the brush strokes - long sweeps to indicate the sun rising in the sky over a beach that mirrored the one before him.  

 

As Katniss approached, she could see the tell-tale, coin-shaped disk of puckered skin where the bullet that had almost taken both their lives had exited his body. The scar would remain forever, as a testament to a terrifying time in their lives and yet inextricably linked to their love. She resented the violence that marred his back, but she was grateful that, in one way or another, they’d found their way to each other.

 

She was known for her silent tread but Peeta was so engrossed in his painting, she did not have the heart to startle him. Instead, she cleared her throat to catch his attention before coming to stand at his shoulder and admire the painting.  

 

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, handing him the tea careful that its hot liquid would not slosh on him.

 

Peeta’s eyes, clouded in concentration, brightened at the sight of her and quickly reflected the smile that broke across his face at her arrival.  “You say that all the time,” he answered before taking a sip.  

 

“That’s because everything you do is beautiful,” she said as she studied the careful dabs of color representing the sun they’d woken to for the past six days, the stretch of beach they shared with no one else on this exclusive island and the clear blue water that lapped at their feet each time they stepped in to swim or play.

 

“I think you’re biased,” he teased, setting the mug down on the table beside him before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling him to her.

 

“I _am_ biased,” she agreed, staring at his lips, still moist from the tea he’d just drank.  “A man’s wife is supposed to think he shits rainbows out his ass.”

 

Peeta guffawed, shaking his head at her.  “Such refined sentiments. Tell me, dear wife, how am I supposed to take your opinion seriously if everything I do is wonderful?”

 

“Oh, honey, you should know me well enough by now. If I think you’re stuff looks like Etch-a-Sketch, I’ll tell you so,” she purred, running a finger over his thick lower lip.  “But I would still think it’s the best Etch-a-Sketch ever, just because you made it.”

 

“I’m completely confused by that but I’m going to go with it,” he said, trapping her finger between his lips and sucking on it.  Katniss decided being coherent was not nearly as important as the way he could make her melt like chocolate at the smallest touch.  She thought maybe their honeymoon would exhaust some of that fire but, if anything, the freedom from distractions and the millions of details that competed for her attention each day made her want him more, not less.

 

After the shooting, Peeta spent a year in physical therapy, trying to get the full range of mobility back in his shoulder.  Meanwhile, both Cato and Marvel were convicted of their crimes and earned the maximum penalty for attempted murder and conspiracy, among the litany of charges against them.  But Katniss had no real peace until those trials had ended. It was only when the prosecutor called to tell her that both men would spend most of their lives in prison that she could entertain what they had just recently done - marrying and finally getting away from the world and all the complications and terrors it contained.   

 

So she’d found the most isolated, exclusive island in the Maldives and rented it to celebrate their honeymoon.  Supplies came by boat from the mainland to the island where only the two of them and a handful of nearly invisible servants could be found.  When they wanted to visit shops, they ordered the schooner and docked at the resort, where they shopped, went to the discos, the theater or restaurants.  But mostly, they were left to their own devices.  Katniss was not accustomed to being without her entourage and the silence was a welcome relief.

 

Setting aside his paint brush, Peeta pulled her between his knees, kissing her until she saw stars, even though it was only seven in the morning.  He really had improved by leaps and bounds in the lasts two years, when she’d practically forced him to go back to school and learn the craft of painting. Just as in grade school, his professors constantly praised his natural talent, until he finally allowed himself to believe it too.

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by his hands under her nightdress, running up her thighs until they rested on her buttocks. Squeezing, he pulled her against him, where he was already hard for her.  Tugging at the hem of her gown, he made to pull it off but she stopped him, trying to lead him inside.

 

“No. Out here,” he whispered. “There’s no one for a hundred miles,” he said as stood, dropping his pants to his feet, his cock springing free from the loose material.

 

“Peeta, dammit! I don’t want my ass plastered all over the rags,” she hissed but she took him in hand, rubbing his shaft as she kissed him.  She felt the reverberations of his moans against her lips and was rewarded when his fingers crept between her thighs.

 

He pulled back to watch her face as his fingers worked. “Unless they’re hiding out in that coconut tree, I don’t see how they can catch us,” he said before capturing her mouth again.  She protested without conviction - after all, even she knew the only way a pap was going to get a picture of them was if they were buried in the sand.  

 

Katniss shivered as Peeta’s mouth made its way hungrily down her neck.  He pulled off her gown and flung it away, the soft material fluttering down onto the sand.   He latched on to her breast, the sensation barreling down to the apex of her thighs, her moans mingling with the crashing surf.

 

He pressed her back towards the veranda behind them until the back of her legs found the surface of a gorgeously inlaid wooden table where they often took their breakfast in the morning.  Kissing her neck and shoulders, he turned her around, running his hands over the length of her arms down to her hands, now resting on the table.  She felt the tickle of curls from his chest hair between her shoulder blades, and pressed back to feel him against her. He wanted her so badly - his turgid erection pressing against her was proof of it.

 

Katniss felt a ball of heat build between her thighs as he kissed his way down her spine, shivers racing along the path marked by his lips.  He spread her legs as he nipped down on the swell of her ass, leaving bite marks along the smooth surface, marks he caressed with his thumb.

 

“Lean forward,” he ordered, so that she was bent over the table.  She felt the warm surface of his tongue tasting her from behind, flicking over her with long, lapping strokes. She moaned loudly at  his tongue marking every place it found as its territory. She was beyond words, as he elicited those tiny sounds she knew he loved to hear. He propped her leg on the table’s edge and using both his fingers and his tongue, he probed and plunged into her, skillfully making her climb upwards until she was dizzy with longing.  With a quick bite of her thigh and a flick of his fingers against her clit, she came loudly, drowning out the roaring waves.

 

“Please, I want you inside of me,” she begged as her tremors subsided.

 

He groaned and with one stroke, was buried to the hilt, his thighs meeting the back of hers with a loud slap. “You feel so damned good...so perfect…” he muttered, gripping her hips, pinching her as he drove into her, each blow landing deep in her belly.  She thought of her World Tour, when he was still in recovery, how gently they’d made love, so as not to re-injure his shoulder and now, that he was finally back to his full health - it was as if they were starting over.  The fear for his wounds were gone and they gave themselves over to each other like two wild teenagers.

 

Peeta reached forward to grasp a handful of her hair and pull, leaving Katniss breathless from the impact and the immobility of his hold on her.  She was climbing again, as he muttered under his breath, something incomprehensible about the way she looked under him as he took her this way.  She touched herself and it only took a few strokes to make her rock out her release around him, shuddering, drawing him into her.  But to her surprise, he pulled out instead of finishing.

 

“I want to look at your face,” he said as he scooped her up and carried her to the enormous bed she had only just vacated.  Laying alongside her, he kissed her, his hands lingering on her hips and thighs, kneading the soft flesh there before pulling back to look at her, the lust that had been in his eyes deepening into something else.  When he entered her again, it was slowly, with reverence, the drawn-out motion of his body a plea to her, asking her if she was his, asking her to love him.  And just as she had always done before, her answer was always _Yes...I am...I will_.

 

He dropped his head to her neck, his warm breath fanning out over her shoulder.  “I love you.  I love you so much.”

 

Katniss heart always skipped a beat when he said that to her and now was no different. As she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down, she whispered, “I love you, too,”  

 

She covered him in kisses - his chest and arms that held him suspended as his speed increased.  She repeated herself again and it had the effect of prodding him forward, “I love you,” she whispered and he bucked in response, this time whining over her, struggling to hold himself together.  It thrilled her that, of all the things that pushed him over the edge, it was her telling him that she loved him that had the most powerful effect on him.

 

He angled himself higher so he could rub her as he plunged into her, bringing her along in his wake until the pressure broke within her and she came around him. This time, he let himself go, spilling himself with a long shudder before he finally stilled, his strong arms keeping him from crushing Katniss.

 

He rolled to his side, pulling Katniss against him as they both struggled to recover from their exertions.  Her body hummed from exhaustion and satiation. But she clung to him because everything reminded her of how much she loved him, how desperately she’d come to depend on him, and it humbled her, even now, that she could feel so much for one person.

 

“I was always sorry to be alive,” he whispered, interrupting her thoughts.  He toyed with her hair, bringing a lock to his lips. “I couldn’t stand the idea that I should be happy at Finnick’s expense.”   

 

“Do you still feel that way?” she asked.

 

Peeta smiled down at her, shaking his head.  “No. Not anymore. I realized I was being ungrateful, that I wasn't  honoring Finnick by living halfway.  I realized I survived because I was meant to find you, to give in to you.  I pushed you away but you didn’t give up on me. Thank you, for giving me my life back.”

 

A wave of love washed over Katniss. She was useless with words, but in particular when she was overwhelmed with feeling.  Instead, she pulled him down to her and kissed him, holding him as hard as her arms would allow.  When she pulled back, she gave him a sly, sidelong glance. “Did Dr. Aurelius tell you to say that to me?”

 

Peeta gave her a look of mock horror, imitating Effie's faux accent.  “Me? Plagiarize my therapist?  I’d never!”

 

They dissolved into a fit of laughter.  Effie, if anything, had become more flamboyant with age and now affected an accent that no one could place but she insists is a bi-product of her Scandinavian heritage. Katniss suspected this was all a ruse to appear more fascinating than she really was, as normally, people in their forties did not suddenly develop new accents.

 

Peeta laid his large hand over the swell of her belly, the heat from his skin spreading deeply inside of her.  The humor drained from his eyes, replaced by that same intensity as before.  Katniss had learned that that expression meant he had something concrete on his mind.

 

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

 

Peeta furrowed his eyebrows, before shaking his head. “Nothing.”

 

“Tell me!” she pressed.

 

“I...Well, I was remembering when I went to the Museum to speak to Heavensbee..” Katniss almost hissed at the sound of the events manager’s name but Peeta continued.  “I was studying a case of statues. There was one - I think Mesopotamian or something.   Anyway, there was this mother earth figure and she was very pregnant.  Like, carrying-five babies-pregnant,” he chuckled as he continued. “And I started daydreaming about what you would look like pregnant…”

 

“Peeta?  Were you already thinking about knocking me up?” Katniss teased, watching him with glee as he blushed.

 

“I can’t even tell you what was on my mind when I would think about you.  Anyway,” he continued. “Not now, not until I’m more established and you are...well, I don’t know what more you could do…”

 

“So hard being my boy toy…” she interjected, calling him by Gale’s new favorite nickname for Peeta, to which he covered her mouth in feigned irritation.

 

“Shush, will you?” he laughed again. “I’m being serious. I think I’d like to...you know…I’d like to have a family with you.”

 

Katniss eyed him warily, a small knot of terror twisting her stomach.  He knew she was not keen on having children, not yet. She was at the height of her career and she was sure she wouldn’t have time for the commitment children would require. But he was so hopeful and she knew he would be the most involved parent in the history of parenting, if his relationship with Tristan was any indication.  And there was very little she could deny him.

 

“I want children with you too,” she said, all traces of joking gone.  “But I don’t want nannies raising them. If I have them, I want to be fully a part of their lives.”

 

Peeta’s eyes lit up.  It was so easy to make him happy.  “I wouldn’t want them raised by nannies either.  As long as they are an option…”

 

“They are definitely an option.  Just not right now.”

 

“Not right now…” he repeated but she could already see their children in his eyes, racing through a meadow, with him chasing close behind. And there it was, their future, waiting for them. They’d run to it together, and build it as one. The terror that had tried to take root in her heart withered to nothing. She took Peeta by surprise when she yanked him down in a fit of joy, but he relented easily and returned her feeling with a burning happiness of his own.  It was the two of them now.  All was illuminated and the world seemed suddenly on fire, with hope and endless possibility.

 

**_Fin_ **

 

**XXXXX**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my unbelievably dedicated betas and pre-readers, bubblegum1425, solasvioletta, katnissdoesnotfollowback, peetabreadgirl, madambeth and anyone else who pitched it. I am going to give a shoutout to my reviewers, who pointed out mistakes, inconsistencies, typos and generally gave all the encouragement I could need to keep going with this story. I will respond to all reviews shortly!
> 
> I have to thank the amazing loving-mellark, who volunteered to do my banner and who is, hands-down, one of the most creative, original people I’ve ever met. I have no words for how grateful I am for you. 
> 
> I want to pause to acknowledge the greatness that is The Hunger Games trilogy, which has given me so much joy in the last 2.5 years that I’ve been writing, and to the late Whitney Houston, whose songs and film, The Bodyguard, inspired this fic. We were blessed, for too short a time, to have such a beautiful voice and I will always love her. 
> 
> Come talk to me on ffnet, AO3 or my tumblr, under titania522. Thanks again!


	15. Outtake Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Prompts in Panem, Day 2 - Modern AU Everlark

 

 

**Part 1**

 

Peeta was sure he was in heaven. The sweet voice that suffused every corner of his mind had to belong to an angel. However, he felt achy and somewhat nauseous and he was almost positive that this could not be part of his journey to paradise.  He willed his eyes to open and, after minutes, perhaps even hours, he finally felt his heavy eyelids lift.  He wasn’t dead and it wasn’t an angel who had been singing.

 

“Katniss?” he forced out through his parched, sore throat.

 

“Peeta!” Her face rose like the moon in his sight.  He slowly grew aware of her hands gripping one of his. _I might feel like death itself, but she will always be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen._

 

“Are you real?” he whispered. He was sure that he was dreaming. The part of his mind that could still reason could hardly believe that her face had materialized out of the purple mist of his unconsciousness,.  And yet her warm hands betrayed her corporeality.

 

“Yes, I’m real,” she responded, her grey eyes bleary with exhaustion. “I’m real and so are you.”

 

He couldn’t help but smile, though even that movement taxed him and soon, he was sinking again into a world of dreams and memories, many of which were rooted in Katniss, a welcome tempest that filled his mind and heart.

 

 _Here is the place where I love you._  

 

He hadn’t dreamed it. They were her words, cradled in her sublime voice.  She’d sung her love to him and his own rose up to meet it.  But his body was a traitor. It begged him for rest when all he wanted was to pull her down to him and confirm that she was, indeed, real.  He had always known he loved her, but the force of it at that moment threatened to rend his weak body to shreds.  So he sank toward oblivion instead, to escape being torn apart.  He would drift on the notes of her lullaby until the moment he was strong enough to finally claim her.

 

**XXXXX**

 

It wasn’t until much later that he realized he was in the hospital and remembered why he was there. He could still hear the echo of the shot that had landed in his shoulder, the one meant for Katniss.  He’d barely felt the pain, going into immediate shock.  She’d held him the entire time, until he’d sunk into the mist of unconsciousness.  And each time he woke, he heard her, saw her, felt her as she clutched his hand or swiped a wayward curl from his forehead.  He expected her to be a dream, a beautiful illusion, but she confirmed over and over again her existence. And each time he found her near, he became stronger.  

 

 _Real or not real_.  

 

Each time he doubted her, she proved to him she was real.  And each time, she told him she loved him.

 

There were dreams during his convalescence. Dreams of Finnick that overlapped with those of Katniss, rolling into scenes from his life - the bakery, elementary school, wrestling meets, arguments with his mother, that vague passivity of his father that he would never forgive, boot camp, training - all these things mashed together until he wasn’t sure where anything ended o rbegan.  His mind was a treacherous cacophony of memory and madness but two things rang clear - Katniss’s voice, whether in speech or song, and the cadence of his heart as it reached through the chaos to follow her. It was the only thing he clung to as he waited for his body to heal and free him from his imprisonment.

 

**XXXXX**

 

_“shhh...go home...postpone…”_

 

Peeta knew someone was speaking nearby but it took time to make out the meaning of the words. It was Katniss’ voice, but someone was speaking to her in low, insistent tones.

 

“He’ll be going home soon. Haymitch, you have to negotiate for more time!” she said. A cursory glance around the room confirmed to Peeta that they were having this discussion just outside the hospital room door.

 

“Shhh, Katniss, you’re going to wake him,” came Effie’s shrill whisper.  ‘She’s already postponed several dates.  We’re booked tightly between venues…”

 

“You can’t possibly expect me to perform!  I can’t just abandon him like this and go off on tour as if nothing has happened!” Katniss answered, her voice rising again.

 

“I know, I know.  I’ll see what I can do but we can only cancel so many appearances before we go in the red on this,” Haymitch said.

 

Peeta strained to hear Effie, who added another comment before Katniss’s angry voice penetrated the thick barrier of the door again.

 

“Singers postpone concerts and tours when emergencies happen. It isn’t unheard of. That's what insurance is for! So stop stressing me out with this!  Shift everything for the rest of the month…”

 

“No,” Haymitch cut in forcefully.  “I won’t be able to reschedule anything if you cancel to the end of the month. You leave for Brazil on the 31st, and the next chance we will have to schedule any dates will be this time next year.”

 

“Katniss, dear…” Effie sounded like she was placating a screaming toddler.

 

There was a quiet murmur, a defeated sigh. Other comments followed, non-descript and difficult to decipher before everything became quiet once more.  After a few moments, the door opened and Katniss stepped inside, her brow furrowed in concern.

 

Peeta shut his eyes, lying as still as possible as Katniss took her place next to him.  He slowly opened his eyes and caught her staring at him, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Peeta said, startling her from her reverie.

 

“Oh!  No, nothing.  It’s all business related. You don’t need to worry about it.  How do you feel?”

 

He smiled, admiring yet again Katniss’ complete inability to tell even the most rudimentary lie.  “I’ve been lying in this bed for two weeks and can’t wait to get out of here.” He sat up, wincing at his arm in the sling. “I also recall that you have a tour starting soon.”

 

Katniss shrugged.  He took her hand in his right hand, carefully trying not to bother the left side, where the shoulder wound was still raw and stiff.  He brought it to his lips, leaving a kiss on the pulse point just beneath her palm. He let his lips linger against her silky skin until he could just make out the rhythm of her racing heart beneath.

 

“Katniss,” he paused, looking her squarely in the eye, “Do you remember when you put me in my place and told me that your job was to sing and interact with your fans?  How important it was for everyone that you be able to do your job?”

 

She swallowed nervously, watching the hand that still held hers as if it was the only thing keeping her from flying away.  

 

“You have to go on tour. You’ve been preparing for months and you have a team that is depending on you.  You can’t just postpone something of that magnitude.”

 

Her eyes widened, before she narrowed them in suspicion. “I thought you were sleeping?”

 

Rubbing the soft pad of her palm with his thumb, he chuckled and shook his head. “You have no idea how loud you can get when you’re upset, do you?”

 

Katniss frowned, gently pulling her hand back to rest on her lap.  “I’m not leaving you.  I’m not going to do that.”

 

“Yes, you will. You’ll go and do your job while I stay here and get my shoulder sorted out.”

 

“No!” she insisted. “I’m not going to be able to do anything knowing you’re here all by yourself.”

 

Peeta smiled at the firm set of her jaw, the way she was determined to overpower his will the way she had done with Haymitch and Effie. But he had his own means of convincing her.  Grasping her by the hand, he pulled her to sit next to him on the bed.  He rested his good hand on her cheek before pulling her down to kiss her.  He was overwhelmed by her proximity, despite the aches and pains of his body, each kiss feeling as fresh and thrilling as the first time.   “What makes you think I’ll be alone?  Annie already told me she wouldn’t let me out of her sight. I’ll be staying with her and Tristan.”

 

Katniss scowled at him in displeasure. “It won’t be the same without you,” she protested weakly.

 

“You’re not in danger anymore,” Peeta whispered as he peppered her with small kisses. “In normal relationships, people don’t live in terror of being away from each other. It was a special situation between us but it’s over now.”

 

“It’s not just you protecting me!” Katniss said, her voice rising. “You’re hurt. I don’t want to leave you alone when you need the most help.”

 

“The doctor said it will take about three to six months of physical therapy before I can even use my shoulder.  Are you going to cancel everything until I get my arm to work again?”

 

Katniss let out a deep breath.  “No, I suppose not.”

 

Peeta lifted her head by the chin so he could look in her stormy grey eyes. “Do you think I’m going to stop... _loving_ you...just because you’re far away?” He almost choked on the word _loving_ , not because he feared it but because that word was like a magic spell that he had jealously guarded, his love for Katniss an all-encompassing fever that he had kept close to his heart.  His body still clenched in terror when he spoke the word out loud for Katniss to hear, still not trusting the universe to keep its promise and let him love her. “Because I won’t. I’m all in.”

 

Katniss gave him a small smile, visibly melting at his words. “Well, if I have to admit it, there is that, too,” she whispered.  “The timing is so bad…” she looked up at him with an intoxicating mixture of sweetness and a touch of shyness that made him feel lightheaded.

 

“I’ll come to you - wherever you are, as soon as the doctors release me to travel. Okay? I promise.” Peeta’s tone changed and became playful. “Unless you don’t want me there. Boggs will be back soon, won’t he?  Maybe you don’t need two heads of security,” he teased.

 

“Don’t be an idiot,” she snapped but was extra gentle when she wrapped her arms around him so as not to disturb his injury. Her mouth descended on his, unbearably soft and warm, filled with everything he would ever need. Because, for the first time in maybe forever, Peeta finally knew what it felt like to be serene in his happiness.  And he wasn’t going to let the matter of a short separation from Katniss interfere with that.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta was discharged shortly a few days later.  Gale appeared with a wheelchair and the air of a certain childish excitement that contrasted with his hulking presence as he goaded Peeta to sit in it.

 

“Come on, you let Thresh drive you all the time!” Gale protested when Peeta insisted on walking.  “Plus, the nurse over there said you have to be in the wheelchair when you're discharged.  Hospital rules.”

 

“Yeah, and then you’ll push me down a linen chute or something. No thanks, I’ll pass,” Peeta answered but he felt momentary glee at the idea of flying down the hall in his wheelchair.

 

“You’re a stiff, Peeta. You should live a little.” At Gale’s words, a senior Nurse appeared at their side, quiet as a flame.

 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve had enough excitement to last a good, long while,” Peeta said. Gale’s glee deflated under the cool scrutiny of the nurse and he pushed his cargo slowly down the hall.

 

“You’re lucky you’ve got the nanny staring us down or else this whole thing would have ended differently.” Gale glared back at the woman named Bonnie and failed miserably at intimidating  her.  

 

“No horseplay in my ward,” she called out, following them to the discharge desk.  Winding down the hallways, they approached the hospital entrance, where Katniss and Annie were engaged in animated conversation.

 

“Tristan is already asking to take medical leave from school,” he heard Annie saying.  “How he came to understand that concept...and he even tried to pretend he had an ear infection this morning when he found out Peeta would be staying with us.”

 

Katniss turned towards him, her cheeks flushed and the husky sound of her laughter spreading its warmth throughout Peeta’s body. He suddenly wanted to be alone with her, even if his arm felt like it had been crushed by a tank. He would be able to figure out a way to have her.

 

“Is Tristan waiting for me?” Peeta asked as Gale stopped the wheelchair at the curb.

 

“Lucky for you, I didn’t buy his ‘ear infection’ ruse and sent him to school anyway,” Annie answered.

 

Katniss took Peeta by the arm as Thresh held the door open for them, maneuvering him awkwardly to keep from re-injuring his shoulder.  She gripped his good hand, compulsively twisting the strap of her bag with the other.  Peeta understood her nervousness - she was leaving that evening after he’d persuaded her to keep her remaining tour plans, a decision that both Haymitch and Effie had met with relief.  Katniss had grown more and more anxious as the time for her departure approached.

 

When they arrived at Annie’s house, she played hostess to Thresh and Gale, while Katniss followed Peeta through the familiar corridor.  The guest room was much smaller than Peeta’s bedroom, something he knew Katniss was considering as she took in the cramped space, which they seemed to fill with their presence.  He was already bone-tired from the discharge and short walk to the house and sat down at the edge of the bed, pulling Katniss down next to him.

 

“Are you always this nervous before a tour?” he asked.

 

“Well, I have cause to be now more than ever, don’t I?”

 

Peeta studied her for a moment, her stormy, downcast grey eyes, the subtle vibration of her body from her pent-up nerves and her white knuckles all broadcasting her state of mind.  He took her hand in his, smoothing out the tension, which she allowed without protest.  Kissing the palm again, he spoke gently. “You don’t handle stress very well, do you?”

 

Katniss shook her head, her shoulders slumped.  “Just try to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t take any unnecessary risks with your shoulder.”

 

“You’re the one who needs to take care of yourself!  I won’t be there…” he shook his head, not wanting to give in to his compulsive need to control every aspect of life around him.  “Everyone knows what they’re doing. Boggs will be joining you in time for your first concert in…” He trailed off helplessly.

 

“Miami.  South Florida.  I’ll be in the subtropics.  Try to keep up,” she quipped but the joke fell flat with the despondency in her voice.

 

“Hey.” He shook her shoulder gently.  “This is what you do, what you love!  You’re going to have a great time and everyone is going to love you. Aren’t you sold out in places?”

 

Katniss scowled.  “Stop being all Delly Do-Good. Of course I love to sing!  Though I admit, giant crowds tend to freak me out, and I never sleep the night before my first performance.  That’s not what I’m worried about.” Her scowl softened but did not disappear completely.  “Just...don’t get stuck in your head, okay?  Don’t start going in circles and end up doing something stupid…”

 

Peeta frowned as he considered her words, understanding dawning on him. “You think I’m going to - how is it that you said? - ‘ _slink off to my lonely little pond and paint my self-pity all by myself…_ ’”

 

“Nooooo,” Katniss groaned, a furious blush rising to redden her cheeks. “Don’t quote me when I’m angry…”

 

“‘ _Because that’s easier than risking my life by actually living it,_ ’” he finished as Katniss covered her face in horror.  He tugged her arms down to look at her.  “No, Katniss, it needed to be said.  You say you need me, but _I need you_ just as much, if not more. You call me out and don’t take any of my shit.  You don’t know how much someone like me, who can get stuck thinking the stupidest, most self-destructive things, needs someone like you.”  He pressed his forehead to hers, his head swimming with exhaustion but he needed her to understand him. She wasn’t the only one struggling with the fear of losing something that was so fragile in its newness.

 

“You need to take care of your business, Katniss. You’ve worked too hard to not do this or anything else you want to do.”  He smiled at her, closing his eyes and relishing that act of rest. “And every time you go onstage, every time you perform or sing or interview or rehearse - no matter what it is, I’m going to be backstage, waiting for you.”

 

Katniss smiled sadly as she laid her lips on his, her kiss gentle and sweet. But he wasn’t having any of it. He might not see her for at least a month and he couldn’t send her away like that. He buried his fingers in her hair, tugging gently as the kiss changed, deepening, ripening as he memorized the taste of her to comfort him during their separation.  She whimpered as he pressed on, kissing her until they both were panting and feverish.   

 

Peeta almost gave out under the intoxication of kissing Katniss.  Noting this, she pressed him gently back against the pillows, stretching out beside him on his uninjured side.  He winced slightly as he adjusted himself but soon found he was drifting between wakefulness and sleep, feeling contentment of being in a soft bed, in a familiar place with the person he loved the most at his side.  

 

When he woke from a dreamless sleep later that evening, the room was plunged in shadows.  He had slept so well with Katniss beside him that it was physically painful to reach over and find that she was gone.  He knew that it was something she had to do and he had been mentally preparing for it, but he already missed her the way he missed being able to function without his arm.  And it was unlikely that he would sleep like that again until she was by his side once more.

 

**XXXXX**

 

When Peeta opened the door of his bedroom, he almost injured his shoulder again as he tripped over an unmoving mass that yelped when he made contact.

 

“What…?  Tristan, why are you laying in front of my door!” Peeta exclaimed, catching himself against the door frame.

 

The bronze-haired boy stood up, rubbing his thigh where Peeta’s slippered foot had landed.  Tristan looked up at him with twinkling eyes and, despite the blow, he appeared ready to leap on Peeta with excitement.

 

“Mom wouldn’t let me come to your room last night because she said you were sleeping and I was waiting the whole day to see you so I woke up early and decided to wait for you when you woke up so I could see you and wow, does that hurt? Cuz you should show me your cut. Mommy told me they did surgery on your shoulder.”

 

Peeta laughed, breathless just from hearing Tristan’s excited, uninterrupted litany of thoughts and tried to sort out exactly what to address first.

 

“I did have a surgery, but it will get better soon.  As for you waking up…” Peeta smiled and tousled Tristan’s hair, “I’m always happy to see you. Just try not to kill me next time, okay?”

 

“Okay. Come on. Mom’s already making breakfast,” Tristan said excitedly, tugging Peeta by the hand and leading him to the kitchen.  The smell of food cooking already filled the air and made Peeta’s stomach growl. Annie worked over the range, her robe soft and fresh, her brown hair still tousled by sleep.  He peeked over her shoulder and gave an immediate smile. “Is that potato bread?   And sausages?  I haven’t had an Irish breakfast in years.”

 

Annie turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Well, you and your protein breakfasts.  You’re my guest, and it’s best you learned that, on the weekends, I always make a large breakfast.  And you’ll eat without protest,” she smiled, pulling a chair out for him to sit on.  “There’s the newspaper if you’d like to read it. Though I will warn you, there’s an article in there about Katniss and the shooting.”

 

“After two weeks? You’d think they’d have moved on to other things,” Peeta said as he glanced at the front page, relieved that he was no longer on the cover.  For the first few days after the shooting, it was all the media could talk about, and he had been grateful that he was unconscious for most of the media frenzy, especially the one time a journalist had managed to sneak up to the ward where Peeta was recovering, making it to his unit before Gale and Brutus chased him off.

 

“Katniss told me to keep an eye out if anyone showed up asking for information,” she said as she heaped two plates for Peeta and Tristan, filling them with eggs, sausages, potato bread, and a bowl of mixed fruit on the side. “There’s your healthy breakfast,” she quipped as she turned back to the stove top.  Tristan wasted no time in digging into his meal, as if eating was an inconvenience he could not afford.

 

“I’ll wait till you sit down,” Peeta replied, scanning the pages and catching sight of the concert tour announcement in the entertainment pages.  There was a picture of Katniss’ album cover, her hair lying dark and straight behind her, appearing to be consumed by flames.  It was a stylized shot, as most of these things were but he couldn’t help but be filled with a powerful longing. Even though he tried not to think about it, he missed her and almost selfishly wished she’d canceled the entire event and stayed with him.  

 

He was so engrossed in staring at her photo that he didn’t notice Annie and Tristan leave the kitchen until he heard the banging of the screen door as it shut behind them. Curious, he stood up to see Annie cross the road to a large van across the street and speak to someone inside.  Peeta shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle that the sight of the very van he’d contracted and placed in front of Prim’s house.  

 

But if the van was here…

 

The screen door creaked open, Tristan spilling into the house first, followed by Annie.

 

“Are those my guys?” Peeta asked.

 

“Yes. Katniss left them here for you.  She said not to worry, Prim is with her. She figured it would be the first thing you’d worry about.”

 

“They’re secret agents!” Tristan said excitedly as his mother admonished him quietly to sit down and finish his breakfast.

 

Peeta relaxed, his primary worry assuaged.  Annie smiled as she took her place also, scooping hash browns onto her plate.  “She knows you too well already. She also had Brutus set up the Skype on that laptop over there.  That way you two could talk while she’s away. She’s gone and thought of everything,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

 

Peeta glanced over his shoulder at the iPad, complete with a bluetooth keypad, gleaming on the heavy wooden desk.  “Is that yours?” he asked.

 

“No!  I couldn’t afford that.  Katniss left a tablet and accessories for you.  Your car is also parked outside. She had it delivered last night.” She indicated towards the front door.

 

“She’s rich!” Tristan blurted out around a mouthful of eggs.

 

“And wickedly talented...and gorgeous...,” Peeta mused distractedly as he continued to study the blank screen before a smile spread across his face. At least, he would not be deprived of her completely.

 

“She’s also really thoughtful,” Annie said, carefully watching his face.  Peeta’s pensive silence filled the room, broken by the sound of Tristan’s fork clicking against his now empty plate.

 

“Mom, can I play Wii?” he asked, practically half-out of his chair.

 

“You have to wait for permission to leave the table, young man,” she said with a severity that did not reach her eyes. “Put your plate in the sink before you go,” she admonished as he made to bolt.

 

“You wanna play with me?”  he asked Peeta excitedly.

 

“I’ll try, with my arm and all, but let me finish up my breakfast first, ‘kay sport?” he answered as he ran a hand through the boy’s thick hair.  Without a word, Tristan nodded and ran out of the room, the sound of the game console pinging in the background a few moments later.

 

Peeta returned to his meal, eating in companionable silence with Annie.  He repeatedly glanced back at the tablet, filled with a giddy excitement when he thought he could actually see Katniss while she was away, almost anytime he wanted to.  When he turned around, he caught Annie watching him, a small smile dancing on her lips.

 

“What?” he said in mock irritation, knowing exactly what was on her mind and feeling foolish.

 

“Nothing.  You just…” she paused, almost giggling. “Being in love suits you.”

 

Peeta blushed, lowering his chin to take a sip of his coffee. He found he had no response to that but couldn’t help but smile behind his cup.

 

“You see!  Look at you!  Peeta, I like her!  She’s so great for you!” Annie said with an excitement that was so like Tristan’s, he was convinced she was the source of that particular personality trait and not, as he had previously believed, his father. “She was so sad when she left, she was actually pissed. Have you ever been so sad, it made you just plain angry?  That’s how she was last night. And I like that!  She has this pure energy, and she animates you, and that’s what you’ve been needing all this time.”

 

“Oh, she’s energetic. I’ll give you that,” he quipped, trying to evade the conversation, which only earned a smack on his good arm.

 

“Don’t be polemical,” she replied. “That is such an important thing. Finnick would have absolutely loved her.”

 

Peeta frowned slightly, thinking of his friend, expecting to feel crippling guilt, given that he was in his widow’s house, being taken care of by her while he was gone...gone because of him, because he couldn’t…

 

He shook his head as if to clear his mind, forcing his thoughts away from that dark place. He set his cup down, smiling gently at Annie.  “I couldn’t agree more. He would have absolutely loved her and would have teased her mercilessly, especially if he had gotten the chance to see her angry. He wouldn’t have been intimidated by her at all.”

 

Annie’s eyes brightened.  They didn’t often talk about Finnick anymore. How long had it been since they’d actually spoken of Finnick in this way?  How many years had passed since they’d just indulged the memory of him, separate from the manner of his death? Had they ever really taken the time to just remember him? He had always been the victim in their conversations, the tragic protagonist that linked them together.  But to think of him in this way, to bring to mind all the qualities that had made him beloved and absolutely indispensable in their lives - this was new.  Annie sensed the shift and bit her lip but nodded vigorously as Peeta continued.  “He would have pestered her for autographs that he’d swear he was going to sell on eBay and drive her crazy with teasing because it is so easy to get her worked up,” he laughed, shaking his head.  “He would have made her invite him to her concerts and then gloat about all the people he’d met because of her.”  

 

“The worst fanboy in the world!” she answered, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

 

Peeta swallowed hard, his heart banging wildly in his chest, a combination of elation and longing confusing his system.  “God, Annie.  I wish he was here!” he said.

 

“Maybe he is. You never know,” Annie said, still smiling, though her eyes had become damp with unshed tears. “I dream about him all the time, Peeta.  And I am convinced that somewhere, out there, he knows that we think of him and love him and it makes him happy.” She reached her hand out to Peeta’s, squeezing it, and he gripped hers in response.  “To see you happy would be one of the most important things to him because he loved you so much.  He wouldn’t have cared who you’d chosen, but I think he would’ve loved Katniss.”

 

Peeta smiled sadly. “Maybe you’re right. Still...” He looked down at his now empty plate and could not control the wave of shame that washed over him. “I...Annie...he had you, he had Tristan.  I...I shouldn’t…”

 

“There’s no sense in you thinking like that, Peeta.” Annie interjected firmly.  “That’s what has consumed your life and you need to stop.  You think everything’s your fault and you let yourself be overwhelmed by guilt.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, looking carefully at him.  “Let me ask you something?”

 

Peeta dabbed discretely at his eyes as he became wary of her question.  “Go ahead…”

 

“How do you feel about having saved Katniss’ life?  About having taken that bullet?”

 

“Besides that it hurt like hell?” he blurted out but he knew exactly what she meant. “I feel like I did what I was supposed to do and when I think what the alternative could have been...I mean, I’m pretty sure if Katniss had gotten hurt, it would have killed me.”

 

“Well, did it ever occur to you that, had Finnick survived, he might have felt the same way you do, like he did what he had to do when that sniper hit him instead of you?  Did you ever stop to think that it would have killed him if something had happened to you the way it nearly killed you?  It works that way with everyone. You’re the survivor, so it’s you who has the guilt, but it could easily be him at this table with his survivor’s remorse, wondering what he could have done to save you.” Annie leaned in towards him.  “This is our burden, but it’s eventually everyone’s burden to bear, in one way or another. You are not more or less guilty than anyone else.”

 

“So what’s your point, Annie?” he asked brokenly.

 

“My point is, If you want things with Katniss to work, you have to stop poisoning your mind with guilt. Your guilt is no more special than anyone else’s, and it’s going to keep you from being happy.  Right now, you’re giddy with being in love, but if you don’t deal with it, the guilt will come back to haunt you later on, when you start to make bigger decisions in your life.”

 

“I really have no doubts about Katniss,” he said almost defensively, though he was immediately ashamed and quickly added, “I want her in my life, for as long as I can have her.”

 

“Well, you remember what I said then, okay?” Annie said before a boyish howl pierced the air.

 

“Ma!” Tristan wailed from the family room.  “The screen’s blank!  I think the Wii is broken!”

 

“The cable probably fell out again. Give me a minute!” Annie answered, getting up from the table. Peeta stared at his plate, considering her words.  He felt her pat his good shoulder as she made her way to where Tristan sat, his voice carrying across the house. “Stop shouting…!”  Annie said, her voice receding as Peeta considered her words.  

 

He rose from his chair in the kitchen and stepped out the back door into the warm day, the air lighter and fragrant with the flavor of spring. He loved this time of year - the way life always managed to assert itself after the ravages of winter.  Everything was new and green and filled with the promise that things could always become good again, even after the harshest that the season of the dead could deliver.  It was a defeat of his least favorite season, and he felt triumphant when the first smell of life returned to the earth.

 

Peeta thought of winter and realized why he hated it so much. Finnick’s death took place in winter and those two concepts would forever be linked in his mind. He’d felt the metallic breath of ice on the day his best friend passed, and he struggled on those days when the smell of snow hung heavily in the air, though it rarely snowed this far south.  It also reminded him of his family - the bitter way in which he’d grown up, bereft of the warmth that comes with acceptance and unconditional love.  

 

But as he walked to the gazebo in Annie’s wide yard and sat within its screened confines, he realized he would never again see the wildflowers in spring and not think of Katniss. He remembered singing “All I Ask of You” with her in the drive in theater, under the dark spring sky.  While the season was moving to a close and advancing into summer, he would always remember that he came to love her in the time of rebirth.  In some ways, he himself had been reborn, plunged into unconsciousness by the attack before soaring back to life under Katniss’ melody.

 

His thoughts flew again to Annie and knew in his heart of hearts that he would not resolve the question of his guilt so easily. Finnick was not his first regret, but he was his biggest by far. His grief might not have been unique, but he loved his friend all the same and losing him would never, ever be an incidental thing.  He would always be sorry that he was gone.

 

But like the spring that struggled to find its place in a world that also contained snow and ice,  Peeta felt, perhaps for the first time in a long time, the sudden desire to not just live but to live well.  He wanted to be more because he now had someone that made living the most important thing. His life mattered because it mattered to Katniss.  

 

And it suddenly became the most important thing in the world to Peeta that Finnick know that.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Peeta couldn’t drive his car, much to his chagrin, because he couldn’t change the gears on his sport’s car. He also didn’t dare try to take Annie’s car, as he was still not quite strong enough to submit himself to a drive. Instead, he called a taxi, careful not to tell Annie where he was going. It was a private matter between him and Finnick, and he did not want to upset her by suggesting she visit herself.

 

When the yellow cab pulled into its destination, Peeta paid, arranging to have the car return in an hour.  Before him lay the rolling hills of Panem’s National Cemetery with rows and rows of white tombstones standing like sentinels over the fallen soldiers who lay beneath.  Peeta had visited each year on the anniversary of Finnick’s death in honor of their friendship, but he could never bring himself to come more often. It always seemed to him that the cold breath of those Afghan mountains swept across these gentle hillocks to chill him down to his very soul, no matter the season of his visit. It was more than he could stand.  

 

As Peeta took the well-known path up the tree-lined glade, he counted out the rows until he reached the correct one.  Walking carefully, as if to not disturb those in their eternal repose beneath his feet, he reached his destination. He held the flower arrangement that he’d always prepared for Finnick - white lilies, lavender, plumeria, orange and linden tree blossoms, and magnolias - Peeta had his own reasons for those blooms, each representing an ineffable part of Finnick’s character.

 

When he arrived at the spot, he observed that Annie had been diligent with keeping the flowers fresh. The small, metal tin near the cross designed to hold the flowers was clean and smooth, the metal unbent by time or abuse.  Peeta crouched awkwardly, being without the use of his wounded shoulder, and cleared out the wilting stems, setting them in a pile that he would take away later. Peeta had to admire Annie’s devotion to her husband, though it brought on a pang of pity that he was not entirely comfortable with.

 

He read the inscription on the tombstone below the tiny cross, though he knew it by heart:

 

**_Finnick Odair_ **

**_CPL_ **

**_United States Army_ **

**_Operation Enduring Freedom_ **

**_July 7, 19XX_ **

**_October 15, 20XX_ **

**_Loving Husband and Father_ **

 

It was a Saturday and there were a handful of other people milling about the cemetery, quiet as the spirits who surely lingered in this place. But mostly, Peeta felt the breeze ruffle his hair, carrying the smell of orange blossoms and lavender to his nose. It was as if Finnick was greeting him through the flowers that most embodied him.

 

“Hey,” he whispered, already on the precipice again, wishing with all his might he could do this dispassionately, with philosophy instead of feeling.  He wiped his nose, clearing away the itch that came on whenever he was close to tears.

 

“I...ah...I don’t think I’ve ever...thanked you...properly...for..you know…” Peeta stopped, pained by his lack of eloquence.  Finnick deserved so much more. He had always deserved so much more.

 

“You’re dead, as you’re probably aware,” he started again, grimacing at himself but pushing on. “And I’ve spent the last eight years wishing it was me instead.  You would have understood, had you been here, why I might have wanted that.  I was right next to you, Finn!  I was standing not twelve inches away. Twelve inches and yet even one inch would not have spared you that bullet and, goddammit, I’ll never understand why!  But that’s what happened, and I have spent every last minute of these years hating myself for that, hating myself for not being in your place now.  

 

“So, here I am, and I think a couple of things are long overdue,” Peeta said, kneeling fully now on the ground, heedless of the fact that he was rendering his pants completely unusable. “First of all, I am so sorry, Finn,” Peeta squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep from being reduced to a pile of blubbering grief, and with complete lack of decorum, flinging himself over the grave.  “I am so sorry that things turned out like that because you had Annie, who still loves you as if you were still here, and Tristan, who is...god, Finn!  You have no idea what an amazing, smart, wonderful kid you made.  I tried my best to be there for him, but all the credit goes to Annie, for not giving in to madness and instead raising that boy into someone we are all going to be proud of.”  

 

Peeta began to tremble and shook his head, a feeling that he was keeping something at bay, something so large, it could swallow him whole. He didn’t want to give into it.  He had to keep the dam from spilling over for awhile longer.

 

“But I want to thank you too, buddy. As much as you pissed me off by dying, I'm at least grateful for my life.  You see, I met somebody and...she’s it, she’s _it_.  She doesn’t know it yet - it’s all so new but you would understand what I’m saying - you just know it in your bones because that’s the way you said you felt about Annie. I thought it was you just being a sentimental Irish romantic but no…” Peeta shook his head, chuckling to himself, “You were right because I feel it too.

 

“Her name is Katniss. She’s twenty-five years old. She’s a singer - a really famous one. She works her ass off. She's not a diva at all. She has a sister named Prim, who is the nicest person you’d ever meet."

 

Peeta visualized Katniss before his eyes and virtually melted from longing. "She's gorgeous, man. I can't tell you how beautiful she is. But she's smart and honest - a real straight shooter.  And she is passionate about the people she loves.  Someone hated Katniss so much, they tried to kill her. But I saved her,”  Peeta clutched at the grass, embedding dirt under his nails, something he usually couldn’t tolerate, but he was oblivious to it as his agony convulsed him. He closed his eyes and saw Finnick before him as he had when he was recovering from the anesthesia, smiling benevolently as if nothing could possibly hurt him any longer. His friend, who loved life and embraced all the absurd humor of the world around him, smiled down at him as Peeta cried for him, for himself, for all the opportunities he’d lost and the ones he longed to reach for.

 

“I swear to you, if I could have, I would have saved you, too. I didn’t and...I’m sorry.  But I am so happy to be alive,” he gasped because he meant it from a profound place in his heart. He took a deep breath. "At turns, I'm both guilty and overjoyed, and I can’t resolve that.  I don’t know how but I need...I need your blessing. I hope you can...forgive me. Because I would give it all up if it would bring you back.  But it won't. So, I choose to be happy.”

 

Peeta deflated as the wind that brought the continuous aroma of blooming orange trees along with a caress so light, he was sure he’d imagined it.  Peeta felt that illusion of peace he’d experienced when he was still under the spell of amnesia and clung to it, because he wanted to believe, more than anything else, that his friend was pleased with him, that he didn’t resent him his life or his heart’s song, the one Katniss now carried within her because he’d given it to her the moment he’d told her he loved her.

 

Soon, too soon, he heard a horn honking in the distance. The spell was broken and the real world rushed in, finding his knees stiff and eyes puffy, but he was lighter than when he arrived. He passed his fingers over Finnick’s name, whispering an imperceptible “thank you” into the wind  before he struggled to his feet. Over his shoulder, he saw a man leaning against an A-1 taxi, waiting patiently for him to descend. With one last wave, Peeta smiled bittersweetly at his friend and turned away.  He’d be back on the anniversary of his death, every year for the rest of his life. He would no longer come with an apology on his lips but with the satisfaction of a man who, he hoped, had found a way to live well.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by akai-echo. Thank you for being a wonderful friend. Also thanks to tanbwrites and solasvioletta for betaing this story!


	16. Outtake Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Prompts in Panem, Day 2 - Expressions in Everlark (Pearl)

 

**Part 2**

 

Upon returning to Annie’s, Peeta was physically and emotionally drained and lay down for a nap.  He was only a day out from his release from the hospital, and Annie had fussed at him for overdoing it.  She noted his grass stains and overall appearance, a shadow of pain crossing her face, but she said nothing, helping him to his room, where he carefully undressed and crawled into bed.

 

He woke hours later, taken aback by the abrupt passage of time. He’d had a dreamless sleep, something he had not been counting on. He’d fully expected to have nightmares or some other vision involving Finnick. Instead, he felt purged, as if he had exorcised something from his soul, and it was free to rest lighter in sleep as well as in waking. Peeta didn’t feel the usual heavy grief or guilt that accompanied him like a faithful but unwanted companion.  The waning light outside his room soothed him, and he had the sudden urge to sketch.  He drew the sky as best he could, imagining all the fragrances of the bouquet he’d brought his friend. He thought of the open sky under which they’d talked, played, slept, argued - awash with all the times he’d shared with Finnick, when the sky was a canopy that offered safety, familiarity and beauty. When he was done, he clutched the sketch to him and whispered again, “Thank you” to the sky before he shuffled out of bed to prepare to join the rest of the household.

 

A rumble of young voices reached him when he stepped out into the corridor.  Tristan sounded like he had a friend with him in his playroom. Peeta paused as he walked by, glancing at them as they animatedly discussed the details for his train tracks.  When Tristan saw him, he jumped up and ran towards Peeta, wrapping his arms around his waist.

 

“Jacob, this is my uncle Peeta.  He’s staying with us for a while,” the young boy exclaimed, as if Peeta were a golden retriever he was particularly proud of.  Peeta held Tristan close, thinking of his father and suddenly loathe to let the child go.  However, the boy would not know what to make of his sentimentality, so he released him instead as Tristan’s friend looked on in awe. Peeta could only imagine what he looked like, towering over the boy with his sling hanging ominously over his arm.

 

“What happened to your arm?” Jacob blurted out before hastily adding, “Sir?”

 

Peeta leaned in, aware that Tristan was watching him, and said in a low voice, “Someone shot me.”

 

The sharp intake of breath from both boys reminded him that no one had told Tristan he’d been shot and he wanted to facepalm himself for his reckless stupidity.  However, instead of the horrified reaction at the revelation that his beloved uncle had been shot and almost killed, Tristan’s face beamed with admiration. “I told you he was cool!  The coolest uncle ever!  Was it a robber?  Were you in a shootout?” he said, racing through his questions breathlessly.

 

“What?  No!  I was...I’m a bodyguard and I was protecting my client…”

 

“Katniss Everdeen!  He’s Katniss Everdeen’s bodyguard!” Tristan said, now bouncing with excitement.

 

“You’re Katniss Everdeen’s bodyguard?” Jacob asked slowly, and Peeta was afraid they would genuflect at any moment. He was already struggling to school his features and not reveal to them how humorous he found this situation.

 

“Yes. Someone tried to shoot her, and I got in the way,” Peeta continued quietly, then backed away slowly as Jacob’s mouth hung open.  “Now, I have to go find Tristan’s mother,” he said, directing his inquiry to his nephew.  “Any idea where she might be?”

 

“She’s probably in the garden,” Tristan said as his friend continued to stare at him in disbelief.  “So, was it a big gun?”

 

“Big enough to hurt,” Peeta said seriously.

 

Peeta could almost see Tristan’s mind devising every kind of scenario and decided this was the best time to withdraw.  As he walked away, he heard Jacob whisper, “I wish _my_ uncle was that cool!”  

 

In the kitchen, he looked out and saw Annie working in the small garden, pulling small, green weeds that had sprouted between her still-young tomato plants. He decided not to disturb her and instead rummaged for a snack, before picking up the computer from the desk and carrying it back to his room.  After swiping the screen, the desktop appeared with a Skype icon in the middle. From what he could determine, there was a notification in the corner of the bubbly blue and white S, prompting him to click it open.  He didn’t recognize the number but he read the message from the missed call.

 

_“Just checking on you. Go easy on your shoulder. - K_

 

_PS - Miss you.”_

 

Peeta smiled as hovered his mouse over the small red recorder icon. With a racing heart, he clicked on it, feeling like a teenager.  Most of his afternoon had been consumed with Finnick and his issues but he ached for Katniss every minute of the day, even when he was distracted with other things.  He almost lost hope of her answering when suddenly, the call connected. The screen shimmered and suddenly, it was her, sitting in a bedroom, the back wall made of reflected steele, and a built-in backrest cushion made of leather.  The duvet was a warm, cream color, the entire color-scheme giving the feeling of lavish comfort.  

 

“Hey!  It worked!” she said excitedly, adjusting her computer, her face jostling on-screen as she reclined against the thick pillows.  She was wearing tiny, cut jean shorts and a black tank-top that left him almost panting, her long, dark hair hanging loose and wet around her face.

 

“Did you just get out of the shower?” he asked.

 

"Yeah. Just finished rehearsal. I'm performing tonight and Effie will be in with Cressida soon to do me up," she said, her eyes bright.  She licked her lips, which made him momentarily lose his train of thought. The shorts had already put him in a crisis the way they always did, but he supposed, if he had legs like hers, he would show them off all the time also.

 

"Tonight's your first show?" he asked.

 

"Yeah, and I'm so nervous. I shouldn't even be here but I needed a few minutes of peace. You are so lucky you called when you did."

 

Peeta smiled at her nervous chatter. "You’re going to be amazing, I'd bet money on it," he said.

 

"Yeah, well, I'd be better if you were here..." she said and he could almost swear she was pouting, which made him chuckle.

 

"Me too.  I'm sorry I missed your call before."

 

"I'm sorry you missed my call too," she complained. "I had a treat for you."

 

"Really?" he laughed, wondering at what she could have possibly have for him, being so far away.

 

At that moment, a pounding at the door interrupted her.  Swearing under her breath, Katniss shouted, "Who is it?"

 

"Come along, now, Katniss. It is time to get ready," Effie practically sang. "You have a big, big, big night ahead of you. It will not do for you to get behind schedule!"

 

"Five minutes!" Katniss shouted in a tone that did not brook any arguments.  With an audible huff, the sound of Effie's shoes clicking on the ground receded as she walked away.

 

"Welcome to my life!" she exclaimed, turning her attention back to Peeta.  "I hold you responsible for this."

 

"Me?  How am I to blame?" Peeta exclaimed, taken aback by her accusation.

 

"Because," she set the computer down carefully so it now had a wide shot of the room.  Katniss, who had momentarily been out of range of the camera, came back into Peeta's view and pulled her shirt off. Without conscious volition,  his pants suddenly became very uncomfortable "...if you had answered me the first time I called, we would have had a little more time together." She unhooked her bra and tossed it onto the bed, her small but proud breasts beckoning to his lips, and he suddenly itched to touch them.  

 

"Katniss," he groaned, his hands unwittingly moving to rub himself over his pants.  Despite his convalescence, he was already rock hard and was almost glad she wasn’t in front of him at that moment. He would have ruined his shoulder if it meant being inside of her again.

 

Katniss smirked as she unbuttoned the top of her jeans and pushed her shorts down.  "I'm going to change anyway so I might as well save myself the trouble and get undressed." When she straightened, she was wearing the tiniest black underwear he had ever seen.  They were literally two strings holding a triangle of material.   

 

"Goddammit, Katniss!" he growled as shoved his hand inside his sweat pants. "You got your sleep mask confused with your underwear!"

 

Katniss tapped her lip with her finger. "You don't like them?" She turned and Peeta was suddenly afraid she had become angry with him.

 

"No, I love them! It's just..." but he swallowed his words when she bent down, pushing her underwear to the ground so that he had a view of the most glorious ass he had ever seen on a woman.  Not just her ass, but she lingered, spreading her legs slowly so he could see her glistening pink lips.  

 

At this point, Peeta forgot where he was as he pumped his cock furiously.  Katniss' fingers peeked out from between her legs as they ran along her slick folds and he suddenly felt like he could have boarded an airplane that very minute and endured any discomfort just to have the chance to put his face where her fingers now played.

 

"Now I have to rush because fucking Effie is on the rampage." Katniss groused, her voice husky with lust as she turned around and hiked herself onto the bureau, legs spread wide, and slid her fingers over her moist lips before dipping inside.

 

"You have one beautiful pussy, Katniss.  I wish my face was in it," he hissed, his voice more a threat than a promise, his own stroking become more frenzied with each pass of her fingers.

 

"Ohhhhh I bet you do..." she said as she worried her clit. With one long, exaggerated motion, she brought her fingers up to her lips and licked them, cleaning them slowly so that he was privy to every stroke.

 

"Taste good? " he gasped, close to his own limits.  

 

"You'll have to come over and try for yourself," she said as squeezed her breast with her free hand.  She whimpered, writhing in agony before she came with a shout that she smothered by biting her lip.  Peeta, who was sure he had ceased breathing and at some point momentarily died around the time she perched herself against the bureau, felt his balls tighten before he exploded all over his stomach, just missing the hem of his t-shirt, panting as if he'd just finished a marathon.

 

Katniss, meanwhile, had collapsed onto the bed, moaning to herself.

 

"You okay?" he asked.

 

She chuckled, turning onto her side so she could peer at the computer.   "I was so anxious about going onstage but now, I feel like melted butter." She moaned again in satisfaction, a sound that was incredibly sexy to Peeta and would have made him harden instantly if she hadn’t already destroyed him with her little performance.  

 

"Is that what that was?" he teased, wiping himself clean with tissues he found on the credenza.  "Stress relief?"

 

"Of course not."  She looked into the camera as if she were staring directly into his eyes, speaking more gently. "That was because I miss you and all I can think about every minute of every day is how your hands feel on me. "

 

Peeta was overcome with feeling for her. "Katniss, " he groaned.   "I love you so much. "

 

She smiled brightly, brushing the screen as if she were caressing his cheek.  "I love you, too."

 

"Katniss Everdeen! You will be the end of me!  Come out this instant!" came Effie's shrill voice.

 

Katniss threw her head back into the mattress before whispering, "Mommy dearest!"  Peeta couldn't help but laugh at how familiar everything was - the chaos surrounding Katniss, including Effie’s relentlessness - and realized he missed the insanity because it belonged to Katniss, and he wanted to be a part of everything that was hers.

 

While he thought this, he caught Katniss peeking down between her legs, groaning at what she saw there.  "What a mess! I have to get cleaned up.  I'll call tomorrow, okay? The show finishes late and I don't want to wake you."

 

"Call whenever you want. " he said, sincerely.  "You never bother me."

 

Katniss made to stand but thought better of it. "By the way, when is your next physical therapy appointment?" she asked.

 

"Next week." he said, watching her as she reclined on her elbow, ignoring Effie’s fussing outside the door.

 

She grimaced at this. "A week is so long!"

 

"Don't be so impatient," he laughed. “I'll be there soon and then I'll be around so much, you'll just get tired of me."

 

Katniss stared into the screen, her thick, dark hair in disarray, her face still flushed.  "I know for a fact that I could never get tired of you."

 

He’d never wanted to kiss her so much as in that moment.  "And I can’t get enough of you..."

 

Her face softened, but the moment was short-lived when Effie cried out again, startling them both and provoking another scowl.

 

"Gotta go." she said with a sigh. "Love you..."

 

"Bye." he managed to get in before she disconnected the call, leaving him with a full heart and the very impatience he'd admonished her against.

 

**XXXXX**

 

**_One month later_ **

 

“Sao Paulo,” Katniss told him when they spoke, trying her best to pronounce the name properly.

 

“Brazil must be wonderful,” Peeta said, careful to school his features and not give anything away.

 

“Well, yes, I’m sure it is. Except that I never get to see any of it,” Katniss complained, lying on her side with the computer resting just beside her. It was after one of her performances, and she was visibly exhausted.  There would be no “treats” tonight.

 

“Well, at least no more tour buses.  You were getting sick of those already,” he said.

 

“That’s not entirely true about the tour buses. Getting around here is a minor miracle. I thought we were going to fly, but it was recommended we take the highway to get between the two cities.  Apparently, getting from the center to the airport is another expedition.  So it’s back on the bus we go.” She yawned widely, too tired to even cover her mouth. “We’ll probably leave tomorrow afternoon, once the stage is taken down,” Katniss’ eyes drooped as she spoke.  

 

“Hey, it’s almost two in the morning. Let’s talk tomorrow,” he said, watching her breathing even out. At the sound of his voice, she twitched and partially woke up.

 

“Hmmm...yeah. I think I will. Tomorrow issss... a traaavel day sssso I’m sleeping in,” she slurred.

 

“Good.  Sleep as much as you can, okay?” Peeta said as Katniss slipped away, snoring softly before he completed his sentence.  Peeta closed the screen and smiled to himself as he dialed the phone number for A1 Taxi service.

 

“I need a cab in two hours. I have a flight to catch.”

 

**XXXXX**

 

Fifteen hours was a long time to be stuck in any one place. Peeta honestly didn’t know how Katniss did all the traveling she did.  Luckily, he’d sprung for a first class ticket just to be able to lay down and essentially slept for the entire, non-stop flight from Panem International Airport to Rio de Janeiro. The pain medication helped, though he hadn’t actually taken it in a few weeks.  It was a handy prescription to keep just in case.

 

His arm was healed up but it was still very stiff and he might not ever regain his full range of motion.  Physical therapy had helped to build his strength and give him flexibility but the shattered bones would take a long time to fully heal.  He didn’t begrudge the injuries, though.  When he considered the worst case scenario, he’d take a reduced-functioning shoulder over death any day.

 

As he deplaned and made his way through baggage claim and customs, he was relieved to see Gale holding a sign with his last name in large, black letters, standing beyond the cordoned-off area separating passengers from their often impatient relatives and friends who had come to retrieve them.

 

Peeta waved at him, making his way through the crowds with his rolling carry-on.  He was still unable to carry heavy things with his shoulder so he searched for every possible convenience, particularly for this trip, where the last thing he wanted was to injure himself again.

 

“You didn’t tell her I was coming, did you?” Peeta repeated again, even though he’d made Gale swear not to say a word to Katniss.

 

“Dude, how many times are you going to ask me that?” Gale growled, opening the door to a cab that was waiting for them.  “Annie told her you were with your family and that’s why you weren’t home, so she has no clue. She’s going to knock you down when she sees you.”

 

Peeta tapped his pocket compulsively, like he’d done at least a thousand times since he left Panem.  “I wanted her birthday to be special,” he said.

 

Gale smirked at him, some another vulgar comment at the tip of his tongue, but Peeta stared dreamily out the car window and wouldn’t have heard it if he’d said it. Rio was chaotic and vibrant, even at ten o’clock at night on a weekday, and lent it an effortless atmosphere of festivity.  He had been strategic about his flight, choosing to arrive on a day that she didn’t have a performance.  Effie and Haymitch had assured him she would be in the hotel, taking a well-deserved rest. She didn't have a performance for two days because she hadn't wanted to be on stage for her birthday. Everyone was in on the secret except for Katniss herself.

 

“Your arm...it looks good,” Gale said.  “How long do you have until it’s completely healed?”

 

Peeta turned away from spectacle of the city racing by. “I don’t think it will ever really heal but the doctor’s optimistic.  It’s just going to take time. Probably another six months.” He thought of Dr. Aurelius and the fact that he’d cleared him to go back to work. He hadn’t told Katniss yet - he wanted to be sure it was something she really wanted.  Even though her affection appeared not to have changed over the last month or so, it had been a long separation and there was always that little fear that he was more excited to be with her than she was to be with him. His rational mind rebuked him but some habits of thinking were too hard to change.

 

“How’s security?” Peeta asked, feeling suddenly at home with the business of safety.

 

“Totally fell apart. I don’t know how we’re still alive,” quipped Gale, pulling his vibrating phone from his pocket.  “Just kidding - Boggs is on it. He’s been with us for years but he kept a lot of your systems going.  Why? You ready to go back to work?”

 

Peeta pressed his lips together, his mind going back to his doubts of earlier. “It depends on Katniss, if...well, if she needs me.”

 

Gale guffawed, slapping his leg as he laughed, much to Peeta’s irritation. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Man,” Gale said between chortles. “You never change, do you?”

 

At that moment, the car chose to stop, much to Peeta’s relief.  He appreciated Gale and respected him, especially after what happened with Katniss the night of the Gala, the way he was instrumental in saving her life.  However, Peeta couldn’t help from vacillating between feelings of camaraderie and murderous irritation in the space of a minute and had yet to find a happy medium with respect to the way he felt in Gale’s company. It was as bad as with his brothers, and Peeta didn’t know what to think about that.

 

As he stepped out of the car, Gale gave him a plastic room card.  Peeta looked at him curiously, wondering what it meant.

 

“You’re slow!” Gale said with a grin. “Go get yourself cleaned up. When you’re done, just go upstairs to the Penthouse suite. She’s staying there with Prim.  The guys know you’re coming around, so they won’t stop you.”

 

Peeta was immediately relieved, that he wasn’t being relegated to a separate room. He wanted to stay with Katniss, and he had not hedged his bets otherwise.

 

He did as Gale told him, showering quickly and changing his travel-worn clothes.  It revived him after the long flight. He’d spent most of the flight sleeping, occasionally eating here or there so he wasn’t hungry. But even if he were, it wouldn't have mattered. He was impatient to see Katniss.

 

Taking the elevator, it stopped at the top floor. When the doors hissed open, he was met with two burly bodyguards who he did not recognize staring at him with arms crossed, as immovable as stone.  He shook his head chuckling to himself at the irony of him being stopped by members of a team that, up until a month ago, he had been managing.

 

“I’m here to see Ms. Everdeen,” he said.

 

“Yeah?  And who are you?” one of the men said gruffly.

 

Peeta sighed but he went with it. “Peeta Mellark.”

 

“You have ID?” the larger one asked.

 

Peeta fished his wallet out and handed them his license.  “Gale told me he’d let you know I was coming.”

 

He visibly relaxed, nodding at him while his partner rapped at the door. “Just following procedures. Welcome back, Mr. Mellark. Ms. Everdeen is inside.”

 

“Ms. Everdeen?  You have a visitor.”

 

“At this time of the night?  Who the hell…?”  Peeta smiled as she flung the door open, wrapped in a robe, her hair in disarray.   Her anger melted when her gaze fell on Peeta, her eyes widening in shock.  The transformation in her face was so thrilling to watch that he couldn’t help but laugh as she flung herself into his arms.

 

“Peeta!  Oh my god, Peeta!  You're here!” she cried out.  “How…?”  she stammered, taking him in with hungry eyes.

 

"Happy Birthday!" he laughed as she half-dragged him inside, slamming the door on the guards behind him. The suite was as lavish as he expected - white leather couches, with wood and brass accents and splashes of bright colors on the wall paintings and area rugs that reminded the occupant that color was essential to the culture of their host country.  The most spectacular view was visible from the endless wall of glass.  He was sure, if he walked up to it, he would see the sea rolling in at the foot of the building.  Not that any of this was of any importance to him at this moment with Katniss clinging to him like a vine.

 

"It's not until tomorrow, but I'll take it!" she crowed before she stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss that began softly but soon turned into something so heated, he would have dropped whatever he was holding to grab onto her and grip her to him. It had been too long and her proximity felt like a physical relief.

 

After several blissful, unending moments, Peeta released her, unable to take his eyes off her face. Skype had been a true blessing, but the technology could never do her justice. She had clearly been resting, wearing her usual tiny pajamas under her silk robe and no makeup but she was almost dewey in her freshness and her fragrance drew him in like spring blossoms.  Her lips were now swollen from his kisses and as much as he wanted to speak to her, he needed to hold her first and feel her naked body wrapped around him.

 

"Are you alone?" he asked, mindful that his sister could be with her.

 

Katniss swayed on her feet, gripping his arms as if she would collapse if she let go.  "Yes.  Prim's downstairs with Johanna and Madge."

 

He was aware that he was being very forward with her and already putting his shoulder at risk but he picked her up with a wince and carried her to the first open door off the main sitting area.  Katniss wrapped her legs around his waist, careful to press her head against his good shoulder, kissing his neck before whispering, "The other door."

 

"Oh," he gasped, changing direction and walking further down the hall until he entered a master bedroom similarly surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, the only light visible appeared to belong to a cruise ship in the distance.  

 

"Ah," he muttered when he set Katniss down, mentally cursing his injury.

 

"Your arm?" she asked, gently rubbing the spot of his wound.  

 

He nodded as she unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders.  "We can work around that." She smiled before pressing him gently onto the bed, straddling him, resting her hands on his broad chest. She cocked her head to the side, studying his wound, which was now a taut, star-shaped scar on his shoulder.  Lowering her head, she swept her lips lightly over the bullet’s entry point, eliciting a raw feeling through his body that was not quite pain, not quite pleasure. He gasped with surprise.

 

“Did it hurt?” she drew back with concern.

 

“No…” he whispered, curling his fingers in her hair.  “The only thing that hurts is that you’re too far away,” he said as he pulled her down to him and kissed her, squeezing her tightly to his chest.  His hand slid below the waistband of her shorts and kneaded her buttocks,  pressing her down onto his erection, which strained impatiently between them.  Katniss ground onto him, gasping as her core rubbed over the zipper of his jeans. Impatiently, she scrambled off him, unhooking his jeans and pulling off everything, including his shoes.  She tore off her tiny shorts and hovered over him before stopping.

 

“Please tell me you have something with you,” she said, panting.

 

“Pants pocket. Left side,” he said, still lying prone beneath her.

 

“You could have said something before I threw your pants across the room,” she complained as she strode across the room to retrieve his jeans.  With an air of barely suppressed exasperation, she ripped the foil package open and unrolled it over him.

 

“You’re so sexy when you’re...oomph!” he said as she descended over him, taking him inside of her in one, smooth motion.

 

“Impatient?  Determined?  All those Skype sessions did nothing but make me miss you more,” she said as she slid over him, so wet and warm.  Peeta forgot what breathing was like.  He could feel every stroke as she clenched her inner muscles around him.

 

“I’m an injured man!” he pleased as she bounced over him, grinding and rotating her hips with such methodic skill, he felt completely undone.  

 

“Did I hurt you again?” she asked, sounding concerned but doing nothing to alter her rhythm.  Lips pinched and skin flushed with exertion, she leaned forward, her tantalizing breasts hanging over his mouth. He managed to pull her shirt up to suck on each rigid nipple, remembering the way they seemed to beckon to him over hundreds of miles, teasing him with the distance.  He took her soft mounds into his mouth, laving and nipping them until he’d left small marks over them.  He grasped her hips and bucked upwards, holding her in place as he rose up to meet her, each contact spurring him on, always more heedless of his aches and pains.

 

His hands ran impatiently over her body, eager to find all the places he knew would make her come apart. His fingers found small nub, eliciting those moans that he had been waiting so long to hear, the sounds that he would make sure no one would ever hear besides him.  He wanted to watch her face as everything in her body came together and sang for him before she fell to pieces.  It struck him as he reached between them and touched her, how greedy he was for everything that was her - her sounds and moods, the way her face changed from hunger to joy to satiation. As she climbed, she glowed, her agony exquisite, and he took it all in, with every sensation intact, for all the times he was reduced to mere spectator.

 

She bowed her back, her muscles contracting around him. He was overcome, wishing he could flip her over, knowing his shoulder couldn’t handle it.  He whispered, “That’s it. Come for me,” stroking her, feeling her skin burn beneath his touch.  Katniss flung her head back, a half laugh, half-yelp escaping her, noisy yet wordless, as the waves pushed through her and reached him, pulling him under, and he finally let go also.

 

She lowered her head, wilting on to his shoulder, her hair a halo that covered his head and shoulders. He swept the dark locks away and pet her as she heaved against him.   

 

Peeta glanced at the electronic clock on the mantle and saw that it was just after midnight.  He pulled her close to him and whispered into her hair, “It’s officially your birthday. I hope you liked your gift.”

 

Katniss chuckled into his shoulder.  He was loath to let her go but she shifted slightly so that she was lying on the side of his good shoulder. “It was the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

 

Peeta sighed as his hands smoothed over her arms.  He imagined for a moment she was a cat and could swear she was purring as he held her. It was perfect. This was all perfect and he didn’t want any of it to ever end.  He debated on timing - how much would he have with her - and decided that it was as good a time as ever.  She protested when he shifted, searching for the light jacket he’d worn and finding it crumpled on the floor near the entrance of the bedroom.

 

He pulled out a small blue box, tied with a shimmering silver ribbon and carried it back to the bed where Katniss now lay against thick pillows, her nakedness so compelling, he already felt a pull in his belly to lose himself in her again.  Gratitude rose up in him again, and he was thankful yet again for her, for everything she represented to him.

 

When he settled in next to her, he settled the box on her flat stomach.  “Happy birthday.”

 

Katniss’ face softened, her eyes wide with surprise. “You being here was gift enough. You didn’t have to...  

 

Peeta shook his head. “You probably have everything…”

 

“No. Now I have everything,” she said as she set a kiss on his lips before carefully undoing the ribbon, folding back the lid.  She pulled out a long, white gold chain at the end of which was a metal claw with a large, exquisite dark silver pearl appended inside.

 

“Peeta!  This is so breathtaking!” She undid the clasp and put it around her neck. “I’ve never seen a pearl like this. It looks like it’s glowing. It’s not perfectly round, either - shaped more like a teardrop.”  She leapt up and walked to the nearest floor length mirror to admire the necklace resting against her skin. It’s wonderful.”

 

“Like you,” he said quietly, approaching her from behind and studying the tiny treasure she held cradled between her breasts.  He reached forward, caressing the claw between his forefinger and thumb. “I thought of every type of gemstone - diamond because you’re a diamond in the rough,” she laughed at this but he continued.  “Emeralds were an option, because they are your birthstone but...I didn’t think they were special enough.  Then I met a jeweler who told me about pearls, how most pearls sold these days are cultured pearls, made in mollusk farms, so they are all perfectly round. But the most precious pearls are the ones found in the wild. They’re rare and often not perfectly shaped but they’re valued for the fact that they are not manufactured.”  Peeta looked into Katniss eyes, suddenly so shy, he thought he might begin stuttering.

 

“I...that’s you, Katniss. You’re naturally beautiful. You’re not false or manufactured - you’re the way that you are without any apologies, even though you’re insanely famous and could easily have done whatever you wanted. You’re not perfect but you’re real and so precious to me, more precious than anything.” he gasped from emotion, trying to keep his voice from shaking.  “I stared at this pearl so many times after I got it because it reminded me of your eyes,” he looked into her eyes as he said this and saw they were bright with tears.  He gently swiped at one that had begun to roll down her cheek as she listened to him.   “Once I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.”

 

“Peeta…” she sobbed and pulled him down to her, kissing him so that he nearly forgot who he was, then showering his face with smaller kisses.  “I’m speechless.”

 

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he said as her kisses made their way down his neck.

 

“I love you,” she whispered, so low, he was sure he’d imagined her words.

 

“And I love you, hopelessly and completely,” he said as her kisses became slower, more deliberate.  She was stringing his body like a bow until he became taut with longing.  When he lay behind her, holding her back to his front as he reclined on his good side, he slid into her, her sigh a response to him. The pearl lay like an unfulfilled promise against the silky expanse of her breasts.

 

It was the promise of more to come and suddenly the rest of his life lay open before him like a book of memories, each page already written and then sealed with the promise to live well.  He saw every chapter unfold  with her  - the proposal, a wedding, children hurtling through a meadow of flowers and hope, a home that was wherever Katniss was. He knew that he wanted it all with her and would do whatever was in his power to fulfill her every wish and desire - to make her happy.

 

If he was afraid and briefly wondered whether it was right that he should want so much out of life, Peeta did not give space to these thoughts. The last of his last resistance melted away and he instead he gave himself over to the inevitability of his life with Katniss.  

 

_fin_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by akai-echo. Thank you for being a wonderful friend. Also thanks to tanbwrites and solasvioletta for betaing this story!
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to loving-mellark for the incredible banner! Check out her other incredible banners on her tumblr or in the Movie!Everlark collection on AO3. Also, I am incredibly grateful for my betas, for betaing another massive fic in a relatively short time - katnissdoesnotfollowback, bubblegum1425 and peetabreadgirl. Check out their contributions to the Movies in the Month of May challenge - Everything You Are and A Thing to Be Achieved.
> 
> This is also in some ways a tribute to the late Whitney Houston (August 9, 1963 - February 11, 2012), who left a legacy of incredible music that continues to inspire. 
> 
> I own nothing related to The Hunger Games, or The Bodyguard or any of Whitney Houston's musical patrimony.
> 
> I want to give credit for Peeta's storyline in this fic to loudman1, who is currently writing an incredible fanfiction called The Medic. He gave me permission to use some of the details in his fic in mine. If you have a moment, head over and read what he's got. It's his first fic - any feedback would be appreciated.


End file.
